A Mask and a Song
by warrior4
Summary: Noonvale is under threat from the silent slaver Rassk the Mask. The valley's only hope though swore long ago to leave and never return.
1. The Masked One

A/N: _Here it is, the start of my new, and what is turning out to be quite long Redwall fic. I hope you enjoy. I own no part of Redwall. The characters, events, and locations are all the property of Brian Jacques. The plot though is of my own imagination._

1.

The Masked One

Rassk the Mask hated seeing a beasts face. He knew all to well the secrets a wink or a look could mean between two beasts. Growing up in a tribe of foxes wandering the bleak northlands Rassk had been born without the ability to move his face muscles. In a world where every eye blink, nod, and smile meant something Rassk was unable to make a name for himself.

One day when he was still a young fox he left his tribe. To hide his expressionless face he made a crude bark mask that wore a perpetual evil grimace. Ranging far and wide he came on a silver fox one day, who offered him shelter. The old one was covered in silver fur that marked the vast number of seasons of his life. Still for one so old the silver fox moved with quick and nimble steps. He called out from his den at Rassk.

"Do come in young 'un. Make thyself at 'ome."

Rassk entered the den and looked around. In the hollow under an old beech tree was a simple living area. A few sacks of pine boughs and some old blankets served for a bed while a woodpigeon roasted on a spit over a small fireplace. On the other side of the den the old one had laid out a large assortment of practice dummies, training circles, and wooden swords. The old one was clearly a master swordsbeast.

As the old one served Rassk a generous portion of the woodpigeon he noticed the eyes of the young fox dancing about the den.

"I see ye have noticed me 'lil 'obby," said the silver furred fox.

Rassk only nodded in return.

"Would ye like me tae teach thee the way 'o the blade?"

Rassk nodded again.

"Do ye ever talk?"

Rassk only stared at the old fox.

"Ah well. None 'o mine ifin ye do or don. Mayhaps we'll start thee trainin' on the morrow."

Rassk only stared out from behind his mask at the old one.

The next day the silver fox was as good as his word. Waking Rassk early he delved the young fox into a world of violence. The lessons were hard, with Rassk receiving many beatings from the old fox as a result of a failed lesson. Slowly but surely Rassk began to master the art of the swordbeast.

His preferred weapon was a paw-and-a-half sword he learned to wield with either paw. Flashing the deadly blade in endless circles Rassk began to formulate a plan. Unable to move his face, save to open his jaw to eat Rassk's hatred of anybeast that could make a sound or express emotion intensified. Even his old mentor became the object of his spite for his cold and stern looks in the training circle. One day, Rassk promised himself, he would leave the old fool and silence the world, just as he had been silenced. No singing, no laughing, no talking. He would command an army of silent slaves who would construct him a fortress from which his silent world would grow.

As he had been taught, Rassk kept his sword close to him at all times. A large clear green crystal set the pommel beneath a brown leather bound hilt. A simple cross guard wrapped in bronze wire was set below a straight simple double edged blade. The old one had told Rassk that most who claimed to be blademasters carried heavily jeweled and gilded blades. According to the old one such a blade was slower for all its added finery. A simple unadorned weapon was the true sign of a true swordsbeast.

One day Rassk felt it was time to begin his plans. As he entered the training circle with the old one he drew his blade. Taking a ready position the two foxes met steel at the center of the ring. The two swords wove patterns of silver as both foxes sparred. Then with a sudden twist Rassk sent his mentor's blade flying deep point first into the side of the den. In the same fluid movement Rassk ran his blade into the old one's heart.

As the life left his body the old one heard the first and only words Rassk would ever utter. From a voice that didn't quite know how to form the words Rassk rasped into the old one's ear.

"Rassk…the…mmMask…ssayss…die."

Leaving the lair of his former mentor Rassk set out into the rough countryside of the northlands.

_More chapters coming as soon as I find time to type, edit, and proofread them._


	2. Scones vs Shield

_Here we go chapter two. I know that in the summary I promised Noonvale. It's coming trust me, but not quite yet. More exposition is needed and a fun time at Redwall too._

2.

Scones versus Shield

"C'mon matey, it'll be a real treat for them."

"Do you have any idea how hot all that stuff is?"

"None at all, prefer a light tunic meself. You'll never catch me clanking about like an old about-to-blow-up-oven."

Gonff was gently teasing Martin as they made their way around the half completed Abbey towards the sounds of lunch. Their friend Log-a-Log had send word of his one score season feast as reinstated Guosim chieftain and had requested Martin and his friends attend. Gonff was trying to persuade Martin to show up in the full battle armor he seldom wore. Outwardly Martin made of show of being annoyed with his Mousethief friend, but inside couldn't help but laugh at Gonff.

"Show all of 'em what a real warrior looks like," Gonff persisted.

Martin rolled his eyes at the jokester.

"I'll think about it. But for now I'm hungry."

"Suit yourself mate," said Gonff with a twinkle in his eye.

As the two mice entered the newly finished Great Hall a mass cheer went up from the creatures that had already made it inside.

"Surprise!"

Martin stopped in his tracks at the assembled Redwallers. Every beast that had chosen to make Redwall home was in waiting for Martin and Gonff. A hearty luncheon of summer salad, woodland pastie with onion gravy, cool October Ale, and mountains of fresh scones drenched in honey waited for the mice. Turning to his friend, Martin glared in mock-admonishment.

"You thieving, flute twiddling old fraud. I knew there was a reason you kept me outside before lunch."

Gonff, grinning from ear to ear, clapped a paw on Martin's back as he answered.

"Of course me old sword swinging swashbuckler! I was in charge of keeping you occupied while this whole thing was set up."

As creatures all around him applauded Martin called out:

"What's even the occasion? Not that I don't like parties, but why?"

Bella of Brockhall, her fur more silver now than any other color, leaned across and gave Martin his answer.

"Martin, today is the anniversary of my father, Boar the Fighter, reforging your fathers sword. Without his help we would never have won against Kotir and the peace of Redwall could never have been."

Covered in Dibbuns, who loved climbing over the sturdy mouse warrior, Martin clapped a paw to his brow.

"By the seasons you're right Bella. I had forgotten all about it with all the demands of construction."

"And my dear husband begging you to go in full armor to Log-a-Log's feast in three days," said Columbine as she served Martin an extra large portion of pastie.

"Perish the thought my lovely Columbine," said Gonff as he sat down next to Martin. "What makes you think I would dare do such a thing to my best mate?"

Columbine shook her head at her husband as she answered.

"Only the other surprise you've got waiting for Martin down in Cavern Hole."

Martin raised his eyebrows at Gonff, who had quickly stolen Martins pastie.

"Another surprise Gonff?"

"Ets nufink mush," Gonff said from a mouth crammed with good food.

"Beg your pardon?"

Gonff swallowed and spoke again. "It's nothing much. Just a little something I had Dinny and Skip come up with."

"You'm serpuntly roight thurr zurr Gonffen," Dinny called from the stairs of Cavern Hole.

"Aye matey," called Skipper of Otters as he walked side by side with the mole carrying a circular bundle of bark cloth. Walking up to Martin the presented it to the Warrior. "Go ahead and open it," Skipper said enthusiastically.

Smiling at his good friends Martin unwrapped the layers back. Under them was a shield. Plain, round, and with a styled M on its domed face Martin picked up the steel shield. Two arm holds, one just below the elbow and another for his left paw to grasp, seemed to fit like they were made from cloth.

"My friends thank you. But our time of fighting is gone. Why do I need a shield?" Martin asked.

Gonff had a wicked gleam in his eye.

"For this! Now, everybeast!"

All along the Great Hall creatures grabbed from the huge piles of scones and flung them at Martin. Throwing up his new shield Martin dissolved into bouts of uncontrolled laughter at the antics of his Redwall friends.

_Ha! A food fight at Redwall. Sounds like fun to me. More to come later._


	3. Shadow of a Mask

A/N; _Okay now we're going to get into Noonvale. A bit longer chapter this time as well. The real action will pick up later, but for now those chapters are still handwritten in a notebook of mine as I think up better ideas. Still I don't think this chapter is too bad. Thanks for the reviews so far. They have actually caused me to do some more editing based on what the reviews have said they liked._

3.

Shadow of a Mask

Rassk's vision was starting to become reality. Keeping constantly on the move for many seasons, he no longer wore a bark mask. Instead he was now covered in iron plate armor that had been held over a sooty fire, staining the metal midnight black. In addition to his sword he had added a simple shield on his arm. He also was no longer alone. Following his every step was a long line of pitiful slaves manacled together. Mice, squirrels, voles, moles, and even a few unlucky otters had all been captured by the silent fox.

When the slaves had been captured they had been forced to wear tight, constricting bark masks that covered their whole heads. Black gauze covered the narrow eye slits. Each mask was made so that a captive had just enough room to sip the meager broth Rassk allowed them, but they were unable to speak.

Keeping the slaves in line was a band of thirty vermin. All carried spears and a large round shield. Not one of the vermin wore a blade longer than a short dagger as Rassk would allow no swordsbeasts save himself. Still Rassk had personally instructed each hordebeast well. Standing shoulder to shoulder they presented a wall of shields to any opponent. The formation was flexible, allowing for quick redeployment to face any threat. At a signal from Rassk's sword the formation could form a variety of shapes that had never failed to defend the small slave band, and always had won victory even against vastly superior numbers. Rassk's iron discipline over his small army was total and absolute. Working as a unit rather than as individuals none could overcome the brutally effective tactics of the Silent Slavers.

The Silent Slavers advance trackers gave the main body of slavers notice of other vermin bands, areas of easy foraging, or the locations of possible slaves. Before going into battle the slavers kept their captives well back from the skirmish lines. While Rassk felt nothing for contempt for the creatures who now lived only to follow him, his cold and calculating mind knew the value of keeping his future work force alive. He would never be able to build his silent sovereignty without the pitiful creatures that were forced to march behind him.

Like the slaves the vermin band had also been forced to wear masks that would allow no speech. These were made of metal and allowed more freedom of movement than the bark masks of the slaves, but not by much. The masks did much to instill fear into those who were unfortunate enough to cross the path of a wearer.

The only sounds slaver or Slaver heard as they marched, was that of chains clinking as the sad column moved slowly southwards. As more and more slaves were captured, tales of the silent and deadly fox soon began spreading like wildfire in dry brush. Soon all creatures of the northlands lived in fear of meeting paths with the Silent Slavers. Most of the timid creatures fell back to their last hope of safety. A hidden valley called Noonvale.

Noonvale lay in a quiet valley. Hidden to all but peaceful and honest woodlanders, the fates had been kind to the mice, moles, hedgehogs, and other good creatures that made their home in the forested glades of the valley, abundant soil for orchards, a stream that provided clear water as it splashed playfully over a good-sized waterfall, and great distance from the seas and roving pirate or corsair crews made it an idyllic place to live. Or at least that's what most creatures liked to remember. An unusually hard winter had given way to an arid, dry and hot spring. The stream was reduced to half its usual level. The crops and orchards showed only drying and withering plants struggling for life. The once soft sward of the valley had become dusty and hard packed earth covered in brown deadened grass. It was as if the once peaceful air of the valley itself feared the growing presence of the long off slavers.

Urran Voh, aged grey by countless long seasons, lay sick on his bed. The only person he called for was his son. When Brome arrived the old mouse took his sons paws in his.

"My son, my time has come, Dark Forest calls to me," said the Patriarch of Noonvale in a raspy voice. "I go with a heavy heart. These slavers we have heard of move closer with every passing season. I fear it will not be long before they discover our valley." Brome could only nod as his father's breathing became more ragged and his voice quieter with every word.

"You know as well as I we here have never been warriors. We might be able to defend ourselves, but these trained vermin of the masked fox are beyond us. All of Noonvale would perish if we chose to fight. There are too many here now to flee and none able to fight. You know who our only hope is."

Tears were falling thick on Brome's face now. "But father, before she died Rowanoak told us he traveled south vowing never to speak of this place again. We don't know if he is alive or will be waiting for you at Dark Forest's gates."

"All the same, send for him. Tell Martin I bear him no ill will." With that Urran Voh closed his eyes and took his final journey through to Dark Forest.

Two days later, after his father had been buried, the new Patriarch of Noonvale called for a gathering of all Noonvalers in the Council Lodge. The large building was packed to the rafters by all the new arrivals that had fled to the valley seeking safety. Hearing of Urran Voh's passing, the owl Emalet had also arrived to pay her last respects. Brome called the meeting to order.

"Friends! You all know of the threat of Rassk the Mask and his Silent Slavers. Many of you came here seeking shelter simply due to the rumor of him. Even though his numbers are small, the battle skill of his band is more than anything we could ever hope to match." Several otters and squirrels murmured angrily at that statement. Before they could grow out of control Brome reasserted himself.

"I know there are many stout hearts amongst those gathered here, but if even half the stories are true we would fall like chaff before the wind no matter how brave our hearts may be. We are creatures of peace and know not of the business of war."

"What of the old Fur and Freedom Fighters and those who threw down Badrang? Surely such a force could be raised again," called out a voice.

"Aye!" called another. "Sound the call to arms!" Shouts of approval grew in the hall. It took a long time for Brome to quiet the assembled down so he could speak again.

"My friends, I dearly wish we could call on that noble regiment again. But as those of you who have been here long know the Fur and Freedom Fighters can never be called again. For those of you who are new to Noonvale there are two reasons.

"The first is that sadly, the Rambling Rosehip Players, who formed the core of the Fighters, all passed on to Dark Forest seasons ago during the plague that swept our valley." Many of the older residents shed a tear at the sad memory. Brome went on.

"The second and greater reason is that the true force of the Fighters was not realized until the final battle at Marshank. There was only one who was truly united that force into the army that was able to pull down the Tyrant, Martin the Warrior."

A hush went through the crowd. All assembled had grown up hearing of the legendary mouse. He who had fought to reclaim his father's sword and left in grief sworn never to return. Still a shiver of awe went up the spines of all creatures in Council Lodge that day at mention of the heroic mouse.

"Sadly," Brome continued, "we don't know where Martin has gone. We only know he journeyed south, alone." He then turned to Emalet. "Emalet, daughter of Boldred the Mapmaker, did your mother ever seek after Martin?"

"No," said the owl. "My mother honored Martin's request. She never followed him. His location is as lost to me as it is to you."

"South to Mossflower." All eyes turned to the speaker whose voice, while not loud was clearly heard by all.

Emalet turned to the speaker as well. "Mossflower is ruled by wildcats. Not even one so brave as Martin would be fool enough to challenge their strength."

"He is in Mossflower. When you see him give him this." The speaker gave Emalet the token and walked out of the crowded Council Lodge. Emalets eyes were wide with shock at what had just happened, but she recovered herself swiftly.

"Seems I'm off on a journey to the southlands. I will return as swiftly as I am able."

A short while later Emalet was flying over the dried treetops. As she left she thought she heard the faint echo of a song on the wind, but it was lost amid the flapping of her wings.

_More coming soon._


	4. Northland Lament

4.

Northland Lament

"Phew matey, scorcher today. Aren't you glad I told you not to wear your armor to that feast?"

Martin rolled his eyes at his fun loving friend and played along.

"Aye, twisted my paw you did after all my begging and pleading to wear that lot. I am truly blessed to have such a wise and caring thief as a friend."

"So you should be," chuckled Gonff. They had returned to Redwall after Log-a-Log's feast three days ago. The same unyielding spring had matured into an unbelievably hot early summer at Redwall. The skies showed no hint of moisture and the Abbey was starting to feel the effects of its first major drought. The crops were still growing under the tender care of the abbey beasts, but only just. Abbess Germaine had declared that water was only to be used for essential cooking and farming needs. The Dibbuns had immediately rejoiced with the prospects of bath time put on hold. Still, even with water rationing the crops were beginning to take on a decidedly unhealthy wilted look to them. Martin's eyes were full of concern as he inspected a stunted strawberry bush.

"We need rain Gonff. Foremole hasn't the crews to continue with the construction. With Dinny out at the quarry overseeing that project we just don't have the beasts needed to dig trenches from the pond to the orchards. All other beasts are either sick from the heat or assisting in construction somehow. We could be faced with a full sick tent before the infirmary is even built."

"Oh nonsense," said Gonff off-handedly. "As long as everybeast keeps on that work, swim, relax, and repeat routine you've drilled into us all we'll be fine." Gonff skipped around his warrior friend playing a few playful measures on his flute. Martin only grunted as he continued his inspection of the grounds. Seeing his friend not responding to the merry voice of his flute Gonff skipped off in search of his wife. He found her just finishing putting away the remains of lunch. Sneaking up behind her, the Mousethief swept her off her footpaws and started singing as he twirled her around, much to Columbine's delight.

"The summer's here,

The wind is hot,

But do not fear,

Oh worry not.

The Prince of Thieves

Has told the sun,

Go down, oh please,

At least the moon is made of cheese."

"Silly mouse, the moon's not made of cheese," said Columbine, laughing at her husband.

"And how would you know that oh flower of my eye? It looks like cheese; I'll bet it would taste wonderful with a nice strawberry cordial."

"Put me down this instant you silly beast, or try finding tea time scones on your own."

Gonff gave her a final twirl and gently set Columbine back down. "That's better," she said.

"Scone's for tea you say m'dear? And you won't tell an honest thief where they're hidden? Oh woe is me; I shall perish for lack of sustenance this day!" Gonff put on a fine show of playacting his distress. "Ahoy Skipper, you have seen the last of this one. The scones are hidden from all; we shall surely starve for lack of food."

Skipper of Otters and his crew were just passing. The burly otter chief was busy directing the placement of a stack of floorboards soon to be sent to the half-finished dormitories when he heard Gonff call out. "What are you talking about matey? I just saw a huge pile 'o scones sittin' in the far back kitchen cupboard with a special 'For Tea' tag on 'em." Seeing Columbine's horrified expression he turned beet red. "Oh I'm sorry Miss Columbine, per'aps I shouldn'ta said that."

Columbine quickly grabbed hold of her husbands paw as he had started moving towards the Abbey door. "That's quite alright Skip. I have a whole host of chores to keep this one busy. Please carry on with those floorboards."

Laughing at Gonff trying, and failing, to escape his wife Skipper turned back to his otter crew. "Right you are marm. Good luck with that 'un."

"Chores? What do you mean by chores m'darling?" Gonff was still trying to make a break for the kitchens.

"You can tell me what has gotten into Martin since we all came back from Log-a-Log's feast. He's been acting very strange."

Gonff gave up struggling and turned to his pretty wife. "Oh it's just this infernal heat. It's got us all acting odd. Why just now I saw a pretty mouse keep another roguishly handsome and valued member of the Abbey from a decent afternoon tea. Imagine that, a beast not been fed in this place. Hardly seems fair now, doesn't it."

"Yes this drought has been affecting us all. But as for you sir, you have a job to do. The lunch dishes need scrubbing and it's your turn. Now hop to it."

Gonff took one last look at the Abbey door before he started picking up the lunch dishes and, bringing them to the side of the pond, began to scrub out with sand. Columbine joined him shortly to help. She couldn't help but think it wasn't the heat but something else that was troubling the mind of Martin.

Emalet flew high over the parched woods. Beginning her search from what used to be Pollekin's tree, the good molewife having gone to her peaceful rest long before trouble plagued the north, she flew straight south. Stopping only to east, rest, and ask after Martin with any creature she came across. Owing to her gift of flight she was able to cover distances much faster than anybeast could walk. Three days after she left Noonvale she reached the far northern edges of Mossflower. Sensing the tell tale odor of a cook fire she winged her way to a small group of voles who squeaked in fright at her sudden appearance.

"Please do not be afraid. I will not harm you," she said. "I seek a mouse called Martin the Warrior, son of Luke. Have you heard of him?"

The old grizzled leader of the vole tribe stepped forward. "That we 'ave owl. Who 'asn't heard 'o Martin."

Emalet immediately pressed for further details. "Oh please sir, tell me where I can find him."

"Go straight south down the path. Twill lead ye to the Abbey of Redwall. I'm sure…"

Emalet did hear the rest of the words of the vole. She took off flying as fast as she could for Redwall.

Martin the Warrior lay dreaming. Sine his battle with Tsarmina he had lost many memories of time before coming to Mossflower. Images that were almost familiar to him filled his dreams, surrounded by grey mist. A fallen sycamore tree, a tunnel through a great lone mountain, the spray of plunging down a raging waterfall, the tune of a song but no lyrics, and a single red rose all filed past his mind.

Martin woke in a cold sweat breathing hard. Looking about he saw only the plain red walls of his small room in the gatehouse. Rubbing his eyes he tried but failed to remember the dream that had caused him to wake so suddenly. It had vanished like some on the wind, except for the image of the single red rose. Looking into the depths of his heart, Martin found the memory of one no battle wound could ever tear from him. As it always had, the memory of the love he had lost threatened to overwhelm him. Only by concentrating on the life Martin knew she would have wanted him to live and the happiness she had brought him, in their short time together, was he able to recompose himself.

Leaving the gatehouse Martin walked over to the Abbey pond. The night air was cool and gentle on his sweat drenched brow. The moon cast its silver reflection on the wavelets that lapped against the shore. Taking the smallest possible pawful of water he could Martin washed the sweat from his fur. Emalet landed silently behind him.

"Excuse me sir. Could you please tell me where I might find Redwall Abbey and a mouse called Martin the Warrior, son of Luke?" Martin turned around quick as a flash. While the bird was powerfully built Martin sensed no danger from the owl and greeted her warmly.

"You have found Redwall marm. I am Martin. How may I help…," Martin's voice trailed off as he looked at the owl. The sight of her had caused his dream to come back to him. Martin began to stagger as he shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the avalanche of misty images.

"You may not remember me, but I remember you Martin. I am Emalet, daughter of Boldred the Mapmaker, who once led you to Noonvale."

At the mention of the hidden valley the memories did overwhelm Martin. He fell to the ground as wave after wave of images from the past returned to him. Martin clenched his head between his paws as he relived the events of that summer so long ago. Finally his considerable self control won out. Looking up at the owl from his knees, and panting slightly, he addressed the owl.

"By the fur you know how to rile a beast's mind Emalet."

"Not my intention I assure you. But I do bring dire news. You must return to Noonvale."

"Never!" shouted the Warrior. "I can never show my face in that valley again!" Martin shocked himself at the hostility of his words. New waves of grief swept through him as he imagined the reception that would await him if he did return. The pain he had caused that peaceful land was almost as great as the pain of loss he felt himself, Martin was sure of it.

"I cannot say I was not expecting such a reaction. But I must insist we are in great need of…."

Emalet was cut off from renewed shouts from Martin. "Noonvale has no need of me! One who only brought death and pain to that place! Leave this place Emalet. Noonvale has no place for me." Martin then turned and ran back to the gatehouse and slammed the door behind him.

Emalet stared after the mouse as he ran off. She was just about to fly off to deliver the sad news when a gentle voice from behind called to her.

"You certainly have a way of upsetting our Warrior." Emalet turned and found herself face to face with Columbine who had woken at the sounds of Martin's shouts. "In all the season's I've known him I have never seen Martin act in such a way? What's wrong?"

Emalet bowed to the kindly mouse. "My good lady it is not my place to tell any secrets that that Warrior might be carrying. Still I will let you know this. Where I come from Martin is a hero, a mouse remembered as the bravest of the brave and champion to all. We are in dire need of his help. If there is anything you can do, please help me. Take this, it might help." Emalet gave Columbine the token she had been given and then flew off to roost for a much needed rest.

Martin slammed the door shut behind him and flung himself on his bed. Hot tears rolled down his face as he relived that moment in Marshank over and over again. The hollow thunk as Rose hit the wall, his wild scream as he flung himself from the battlements at Badrang, the pure hatred coursing through him as he plunged the sword of Luke into his foe's heart, the shame that had made him pass out as he realized he had broken the code of the warrior and taken another's life not in defense of others, but in vengeance for his own selfish reasons. A knock at the door made him look up.

"Martin it's Columbine. May I come in please?" Martin didn't answer her so she knocked harder and this time tried the door. Martin was glad he had locked it. "Of you don't open this door I'll open it myself. You know as well as I Gonff has taught me how to pick a lock." Martin groaned and got up. Wiping the tear stains from his face he opened the door.

"Columbine, please I wish no one with me right now."

"Martin if you were to see a beast look as you do right now, you would be at their side in an instant trying to help them. Let others extend you the same friendship."

Martin couldn't help but feel warmly at the kindness of Columbine. He opened the door and let her in. Martin lay back down on his bed staring at the ceiling as Columbine found a small stool and sat down. "Martin, you and I have known each other for a long time. I can tell there's something bothering you. I've seen it since you got back from Log-a-Log's feast, and now you start shouting at strangers to the Abbey. It's not like you at all. Please, what's wrong?"

Closing his eyes, the Warrior took a deep breath but stayed silent. Columbine tried again. "Martin I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. If it's something you did, you can tell me. We all have done things we're not proud of. But it doesn't change who we are. We learn from our mistakes so we don't make them again."

"Columbine it's not a matter of mistake I made. It's a matter of honor and a vow I made long ago, to protect certain ones from harm" said Martin still with his eyes closed.

"Martin, your honesty and sense of what's right are what I admire most about you. But anybeast can see that whatever this is, is tearing you up. You need not fear any Redwaller harming anybeast you have sworn to protect."

Columbine's words washed over Martin like a dockleaf on a hornet sting. Martin sensed it was time to tell her of his true past. He sat up and looked at her for the first time since she had come in. "Columbine, you may have heard that I came from the far north and only journeyed south to Mossflower after I felt my father would not return from his war against the searats. That is not the whole truth of the matter. When I was young, just barely able to hold my father's sword, I was captured by a stoat called Badrang the Tyrant. When he captured me he stole my father's sword." Martin went on to tell Columbine the truth of his past.

When he was finished Columbine couldn't help but feel for her Warrior friend. "Martin, if we only ever knew we would have...," but she couldn't finish her sentence as she could not think of what she and the other Redwallers would have done had they known. She was too shocked at hearing Martin's words.

"Now, so long after that summer from out of nowhere Emalet arrives and asks me to return to that place. I could never return to the place where Rose lays buried. Her family must hate me for taking her to her death. I don't know which would be more painful, their shame in me for not protecting her, or losing her myself." Martin hung he head and tears fell down his face as once more his emotions overcame him.

Columbine placed a gentle paw on his shoulder. "Martin you must not blame yourself for Rose. It was not your fault she died. It was Badrang's. She died as much a warrior as you are. I know you would gladly lay down your life for those of us here at Redwall. She was doing the same that day at Marshank. And so much good came out of her sacrifice. Because of her you came here to Mossflower, defeated Kotir, and now Redwall is a lasting tribute to the peace that has been achieved. I'm sure she would have wanted you to lead a happy life, not morn so long because of a choice she made of her own free will."

Columbines words sparked something in Martin. The pain he had felt for so long was slowly lessening. His guilt melted away as he pondered what Columbine had said. She wasn't done speaking though. "Martin your friends from the north have honored your request for solitude for so long. I'm sure they wouldn't call for you unless there was good reason for it. Would you at least go back outside and talk to Emalet again." Martin nodded and followed Columbine outside.

While they had been talking the grey false dawn had come. The sky was beginning to brighten as the new day approached. Emalet had just woken when she heard the door to the gatehouse open and saw the two mice emerge. She heard Martin call her name and glided swiftly down to where he stood. Martin looked at her with new eyes as he addressed her.

"Emalet, I apologize for shouting at you earlier. It was rude and inconsiderate of me."

The owl bowed to the mouse and responded, "Not at all Martin. As I said I was expecting a similar reaction."

"You said you came here because Noonvale needs me. It has been many seasons since I left the north. Why does Urran Voh call me now? He must have heard of my vow to never return or speak of Noonvale again for fear of causing trouble to come there."

Emalet let out her breath as she replied. "Your vow has not been broken Warrior. Noonvale has never been troubled by anybeast looking for you. But we are still in need of a champion. Urran Voh has left us for Dark Forest. His last wish was to send for you and to say he bears you no ill will. Noonvale is under threat from a fox said to be dressed in black armor. This Rassk the Mask, as he is said to be called, never speaks and leads a horde so skilled in battle that although they number only thirty, they have never been defeated. Rassk is also rumored to be a master of the sword. He enslaves those he doesn't kill. You must remember the character of those at Noonvale. We could never stand against such an enemy.

"You are our only hope. In Noonvale you are not remembered as one who sent some of our best young friends to their deaths, but as the hero and champion who made sure none of our other creatures would fall under the heel of a cruel tyrant. We need the strength of such a champion again. You must understand we would not have called you unless we were absolutely certain of our need."

Martin stared at the ground upon hearing the new information. His relief that his vow had not been broken was tempered only his concern on hearing of the slavers. Suddenly his old sense of a warrior's duty leapt out at him. He looked up; eye's clear and on fire, as he spoke to Emalet.

"I will return to Noonvale Emalet. Fly back and tell them to keep a vigil for me. I leave as soon as I am able."

"Then I think you'll need this," said Columbine and she gave Martin the token from Noonvale.

A/N; _So that was a nice long chapter. Took me over three hours to type and proofread. No mean feat when you do that at 1:30 in the morning let me tell you. To let you all know, yes all three of my stories so far have dealt with Martin, and two of them Martin/Rose. My previous two stories were written on impulse and were just typed out as I thought them up. I didn't really think about the plot line before I started writing and didn't do too much editing after I had written the words._

_This story is different in that I am trying to think out the plot and characters before I put anything down. Hopefully it's making for a more interesting read. It's also the reason this chapter alone is longer than my other two stories. Comments are always welcome and thank you for reading._


	5. The Mask Draws Nearer

5.

The Mask Draws Nearer

Brome sat in Council Lodge troubled and worried. Everyday more creatures arrived in Noonvale. Each told of the slow yet inexorable march of Rassk and the Silent Slavers. According to the latest news the doom would descend in half a season's time at the latest. Brome couldn't help but wonder at the irony. Mid-summer, when Noonvale traditionally celebrated the anniversary of the victory over Marshank new would be plagued by yet another war. Only this time the fight was not on the Eastern Coast, but coming straight for the home he loved so dearly.

Brome paced endlessly as he tried to think of a way to forestall the evil slowly creeping to his beloved home. His mother noticed the worry on his face. "Brome dear, look at yourself. Calm down and relax."

Brome continued pacing. "I can't mother. All these creatures are looking to me to make the right decision. We haven't heard anything from Emalet for days now, the streams are starting to run dry because of the drought, the young and old alike are scared…"

"Shhhh, hush dear. The fact you worry so much shows great character. You care so much about the creatures here just as your father did. But please, you must find a way to alleviate your fears. Your father always tried to find the best in each situation, especially when times where hard. You remember his old motto; plan for the worst, hope for the best, expect something in between."

Brome gnawed on his lower lip as he considered his mother's sage words. An idea then suddenly came to him. That afternoon Brome again addressed the entirety of Noonvale. "My friends, you all know of the peril facing us. We know we cannot defeat this slaver and his vermin. We are creatures of peace, not trained warriors. But we can stand as ready as possible in order to prevent us from becoming additions to the line of slaves this masked fox seeks. According to latest reports the slavers are still half a season's march from our valley. This gives us time.

"Never before has Noonvale played guest to so many fine creatures. Therefore I ask your help in these dark times. I ask you to help build a larger shelter house next to the waterfall cliff. We will use the rock face and the timber of the forest to create a place where we can all take refuge should the time come.

A cheer of approval met his words. The creatures of Noonvale all thought working on such a project was a lot better than sitting around twiddling their paws waiting for Rassk to appear. With this plan they might stand a chance. Filled with confidence at the enthusiastic greeting of his plan, Brome went on.

"You all know of our plea to Emalet to find Martin the Warrior. But it has been many days since the owl left us. I knew Martin personally and I can say for a fact he would want us to prepare ourselves as best as we are able. This we will do and try to hold our valley should he never come."

"Martin will come." It was the same clear voice that had spoken at the last assembly. All eyes turned to the speaker. "Martin will come." With that the speaker left and walked to a lookout spot on top of the bluffs on the south side of Noonvale. There the creature sat down and started a vigil to watch for any sign of the Warrior.

Brome was as shocked as any other beast at the strange scene that had just taken place. Gathering himself Brome bid the assembled to begin work on the Refuge the next day. As the creatures of Noonvale left to make preparations for the coming task, Brome walk out the doors and followed the one who had left for the southern bluffs. He found the creature sitting under what shade the rowan and alder trees provided. Despite the heat the Vigil Keeper had put up the hood of the cloak draped over a pair of slender shoulders. Brome approached quietly.

"Good afternoon." The creature did not respond so intent was its gaze on the southern woods.

Brome had to have his questions answered. Standing to the side of the Vigil Keeper he began his questions. "You say you know Martin will come, you sent Emalet to Mossflower when we know that it is ruled by an evil even more powerful than the threat we face now. How can you be so sure of your claim?" There was an edge of panic in Brome's voice.

The Vigil Keeper looked up at the new Patriarch. Brome wilted under the gaze of the Vigil Keeper. Just the look in that one's eyes told Brome that the belief of Martin's return was nothing Brome could ever doubt.

Brome fell to the ground sobbing he poured his heart out to the one next to him. "Sniff…I just wish I had your courage and resolve. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing keeping us all here in Noonvale. The crops are starting to die, there are more mouths to feed than we have available foodstuffs, and this slaver comes closer with each passing day." Hot tears burned the eyes of the mouse.

The Vigil Keeper put a comforting paw on Brome's shoulder. In the soft but firm voice that had been heard in Council Lodge the Vigil Keeper spoke. "Aryah is right Brome. You are the right mouse to lead us during this time. You may not be one to wield a weapon and drive out evil, but you have a different courage. Not many creatures could unite so many to stay and face the dread now facing us. Most others would turn and run as soon as possible. But where would we go? Most of us know nothing of the land beyond Noonvale. The hardships of travel would be too much for so many. Here, you are right, we still have a chance.

"You ask how I know Martin is coming, I wish I knew myself. I don't know how I know it, but he is in Mossflower and he will come. I don't know how long it will take him to reach us, or if he will get here in time, but Martin will return to Noonvale."

Brome felt his confidence return at the words of the Vigil Keeper. Wiping his eyes he got to his footpaws. He brushed off the dirt covering his robes. "Thank you my friend. Can I count on your help to build the refuge?"

The figure turned again to gaze into the woods. "I'm sorry no. I must remain here. Please allow none to join me. I prefer my own company at this time. I give you my word that if needs be I will come back down into the valley and do my part to assist. Until such a time comes, my only advice is to follow your heart and prepare as best you can. You were right when you said Martin would want us to make defensive preparations to the best of our ability. I know that as well as you."

Brome bowed to the Vigil Keeper and left to return to the shelter of Noonvale. There was much to prepare.

A half season's march to the north the waves were breaking on the jagged coast of the Eastern Sea. Rassk and his Silent Slavers had formed their battle line. With grim eyes they faced the searat horde that pounded up the shore towards them. Yelling fearsome war cries and waving a wide variety of cutlasses and ship pikes the vermin crew charged the slavers.

Very few corsair crews carried large amounts of bowbeasts or slingers, searats and pirates generally preferring to be in close to their victims where they could be truly brutal. Since it was only against such foes that Rassk had ever faced he had arranged his forces to deal with that threat. Positioning his small force next to large rock outcrops the searat crew would be funneled into small numbers against his own vermin. Rassk had the Silent Slaver show a wall of iron shields to his enemies in three rows of ten slavers. Working as one the Silent Slavers thrust their spears over top and beneath the shield wall much like two sets of alternating pistons. As one set of spears thrust the other would draw back and vice versa. The Slavers in the second and third rows added their own shields to provide overhead and flanking cover for the expert spearbeasts in the front row.

Soon due to the effective precision and discipline of Rassk's tactics the searat crew lay either dead or dying on the blood soaked sands. Rassk gave the signal and the thirty slavers began to move among the bodies of their fallen foes. Checking each body carefully the slavers finished off any survivors with quick thrusts of their spears. Soon the grisly task was done and Rassk led the Slavers up the coast to where the searat ship had been sighted.

The galley slaves were shocked when the masked and silent ones came aboard and led them off the ship. Some at first thought they were being freed and started to cheer. Quick stabs of several spears and several more broken bodies let the remaining galley slaves know they were not to talk and their freedom just another dream. Rassk lined up the slaves on the shore and wrote in the sand with his sword.

_You are the property of Rassk the Mask. Speak and die, escape and die, you no longer have names, you are only those who will work for Rassk._

The Silent Slavers dug out more of the cruel bark masks and fitted them to the new slave's heads before chaining them to the running line with the rest of the slaves. Rassk watched over the efficient process. One of the slavers then came up to Rassk. In the complex claw signals they used to communicate the Slaver told Rassk of a valley half a season's march to the south, many had fled their in terror of Rassk, but it was a place of few warriors. Rassk quickly had the slave line up and moving as he and the Silent Slavers turned south west in the direction of Noonvale.

A/N; _The action will start picking up soon I promise. Filler chapters like this though needed for the story are boring to me. But it makes the future chapters better. More coming soon._


	6. Travel Marches

6.

Travel Marches

"Columbine where did you get this?" Martin looked in shock at the token he had been given.

Emalet spoke up first. "Actually I gave it to her. I hoped it would help to convince you to return to Noonvale. I was told to give it to you when I found you."

Martin looked up at the owl. "Who gave this to you?"

"I'm sorry Martin I don't know who it was. The creature kept their hood up. I couldn't tell who it was. Why?"

Martin tucked the token into a pocket of his tunic. "Never mind, it is of no importance. Columbine please wake up Gonff and have him meet me in the gatehouse. Also send Skipper if you see him as well."

Columbine nodded and ran off into the night. Soon she, Gonff, Skipper and Emalet were seated around Martin's small table listening to all the information Emalet could provide about Rassk and his slaver crew. When Emalet finished the first lights of dawn were just beginning to color the sky. Martin had buckled his sword to his side and kept a paw on the hilt. Martin then told his friends of the reason of Emalet's visit and the short version of truth of his past. "Skipper could your crew handle the slavers when the time comes?"

"Aye matey. Don' you go worryin' your good self over that lot. Me and the crew will keep 'em busy."

"Gonff you'll be in charge of freeing the slaves when the time comes. I know you'd rather be taking on the slavers, but a good Mousethief should be able to pick the locks on the chains with few problems."

"Of course Martin. It'll be just like when we first broke out of Kotir. Now don't you worry your pretty little head my darling. Martin and I will be back before you know it." Gonff had seen a very worried look in his wife's eyes.

"Oh I'm not concerned about that. It just seems that given how many slaves this Rassk seems to have taken you might need some help in freeing them quickly." She turned to Martin. "You know as well as I that the only lockpick in this Abbey better than me is my dear husband. I'm asking to come with you Martin."

Seeing the concern on Columbine's face Martin quickly agreed. "Of course you can come with us Columbine. Maybe on this journey Gonff will be better behaved."

"Fat chance matey. I'll be stealin' and singin' the whole way there."

Martin couldn't help but smile at his friend. "Wouldn't have it any other way mate." The Warrior turned to Skipper. "Skip, get your crew together and have them meet at the main gate as soon as possible. We need to travel light and swift."

"I'll rouse up the crew up right now matey." The big otter left the gatehouse to wake his crew.

Emalet had one suggestion for Martin. "I have heard of your skill with a blade Martin. But this Rassk may be more than a match even for you. Would you please humor this bird and take that fine suit of armor."

Martin looked at the burnished steel plate armor displayed in a corner of the room. "Normally I don't wear that lot. It's light enough in battle, but it'll be a heavy burden on such a long journey. I think it will only slow us down."

Gonff though would have none of that. "Martin me mate, the owl speaks sense. They're not called wise for naught. You'll have a full otter crew of willing paws to help you carry that lot. I agree with Emalet. If this Rassk is as good a swordsbeast as you, you'll need all the help and protection you can get."

Martin took a deep breath but relented. "Very well Gonff. We'll take the armor. But that means we'll have to lighten the food packs or take none at all to travel at the speed I intend."

Columbine alleviated the worried Warrior. "Have no fear of that Martin. Even with the drought, Mossflower can provide us all the food and drink we need and since we're going to just be eating what we find we won't have to carry any extra with us. Once we get out of Mossflower, I'm sure experienced travelers like yourselves will be able to forage just fine."

In a short while Martin had his armor packed in several large haversacks and met Skipper and the otters at the main gates. Bella and Abbes Germaine were with them. Martin came forward and bowed to the ancient mouse.

"Mother Abbes, a duty from long ago calls me north. I beg your leave to assist those facing a deadly peril."

Germaine bowed her head to the Warrior. "Of course Martin. May the good fortune of all Redwallers go with you and your bold friends."

Bella had her parting words too. "Go swiftly Martin. The sword you carry was forged to protect those who can't protect themselves. Acquit yourself well and come back as soon as you are able."

Drawing his sword Martin flashed it in a Warrior's salute before turning out of the gate and up the path to the north.

Two days later the Redwallers were making excellent time. Martin had set a very fast pace. That and by using the many shortcuts Emalet knew from her scouting they had traveled twice the distance they normally would have been able to travel. That night Gonff watched as Martin held a whispered conversation with Emalet. Shortly thereafter the owl flew off to the north. Martin came back to the fire beside his friends.

"Where's our owl friend off to?" asked Gonff.

Martin pulled out some of his armor and, as he did every night inspected it for any signs of wear or damage. "She was giving me the rest of the route to Noonvale. I asked her to fly on ahead of us and let them know we're coming."

"Noonvale? Where's that?" asked an otter called Streamer.

Martin looked at the other puzzled faces of the otter crew. "Forgive me my friends. We have been on the road two days and I haven't even told you where we're going or why."

Streamer answered for the otters. "We'da followed you anywheres Martin. But we was getting' a bit curious to know where our course was set for."

Martin set down the greave he had been inspecting. "My friends, Skipper, Columbine, and Gonff already know this story as I told them the night before we set out. We are bound for a place called Noonvale. It's a place I have been to before but swore never to mention. Before I came to Mossflower I was born on the shores of the Western Sea in the far northlands." Martin went on to tell the otters the truth of his past. Martin felt surprisingly relieved at finally being able to confide his secret to more of his friends. The otter's eyes grew wide as he told them of his battle against Marshank and the reason he had left so long ago. He finished by detailing the nature of the threat against the valley.

When Martin was done with his tale the otters could scarcely take in what the mouse had told them. Streamer piped up again. "That's some tale Martin. Doesn't surprise any of us you would seek solitude after an ordeal like that. Still I reckon it'll do you a world o good to get back there."

Martin lay back and started at the sky as he answered. "If it's still there to go back to Streamer."

The next day the Redwallers rose well before dawn had broken. According to the pace Martin had set they rose well before the sun climbed over the tree tops and kept going long after the silver moon cast its shining beams into the forest. Gonff kept their spirit's up by composing marching songs as they hurried ever northwards through the dry forest.

"A Warrior, a Thief, a maid, Questing to find the glade, Otters brave and true, A loyal and stalwart crew.

The northward path they take, Hardly taking a break. No heat will ruin our mood, For handsome Gonff has stolen the food!"

At the sound of the last line Skipper and Martin went chasing off after the mischievous Mousethief.

"Oy! What's this stealing the food part matey?"

"Aye, you wouldn't want your pretty wife to go hungry on this trip now would you?

Gonff's free spirit kept them all upbeat as he kept ahead of the mouse and otter chasing him. "Ha! Catch me if you can you slow footed old frog hoppers! I'll bet you one of Columbines good apple pies I'll make it to Noonvale afore you!"

Martin and Skipper continued to chase after Gonff calling back insults at him. "You make it to Noonvale before me? I'd like to see you try you fat-bellied, old scoff swindler."

"Scoff swindler indeed me bucko. Who was it that swiped more than ten score Abbey scones hid under his shield?" Gonff called back.

Skipper had almost caught up with Gonff as he answered for Martin. "That was you matey. I know 'cause I saw you nip Martin's shield to carry them all in!" Skipper grabbed hold of Gonff and the two wrestled furiously in the forest loam as they waited for the others to catch up. The banter was playful enough, but each step brought them closer to Noonvale and the threat facing the peaceful valley.

A/N; _Yea! Filler chapters are done! Self high -five. The next few are my favorite ones in this story so far. We still have a long way to go in this tale. I've got six more chapters handwritten that have been very heavily edited. There are almost more scribbles and cross-outs on those pages than actual words I'll be typing out. I'll get them up soon, since I like the rest of the story so much I can't wait to share it with you all._


	7. The Mask Descends

A/N; (In a WWE announcer type voice) _Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the main event._

7.

The Mask Descends

The following weeks were hard ones for those in Noonvale. The construction of the Refuge went on at a steady pace. Built against a solid cliff next to the waterfall the structure was crude, but effective. It had interior rooms for the old and young, storage areas for preserved food stuffs, a tunnel was dug by several moles to the stream to provide water for those inside. The outer halls were built so defenders could poke fire hardened ash staves out of narrow windows. An upper level allowed for the few archers in Noonvale to have an elevated firing position. The only entrance was tunnel whose entrance could be blocked by a large boulder in an instant. All in all it was a secure redoubt.

Brome heartily congratulated all the willing paws who had helped in the construction of the Refuge. Once more addressing the whole of Noonvale he threw his paws wide. "My friends, you have done a marvelous job building our Refuge. From here we will be able to last should the slavers try to take out valley." Cheers greeted his brave words. "Now let us stock and provision out shelter with what supplies we have left. I know the drought has caused many hardships, but we still have just enough stocks to last the summer. If we are careful we will be able to hold out."

With a new sense of determination the creatures of Noonvale set to the task. All day Brome oversaw the storing and placement of barrels of preserved fruits and grains. The few berries left on the bushes were boiled down into syrups that could be added to the water stored in several large oaken barrels kept in the heart of the Refuge. The stores were just being finished being loaded when evening started to fall.

A masked ferret drew one circle in the air with his paw. Rassk understood the message clearly. One night's hard march to Noonvale. Turning to his small horde he jammed his paw up and down twice to indicate the quicker pace. The Silent Slavers broke into a fast trot as they pressed through the woods.

Several lookout posts had been set up on the bluffs to the north of Noonvale. Crewed by competent squirrels they each had a hollow log set in them. The crews had been ordered to beat the logs at the first sign of the slavers. Posted a day or night's march from Noonvale it was hoped they would provide enough warning time to let the Noonvalers flee to the Refuge.

It was a smart precaution. As the evening shadows fell a lookout heard the tell tale clink of chains moving through the woods. Grabbing two mallets he began pounding frantically on the hollow log, the noise echoing though the woods.

_Wham! Boom! Wham! Boom! Wham! Boom! Wham! Boom!_

Soon the other lookout posts heard the sound and added their own beats. The wave of sound reached Noonvale just as the last provisions were being placed in the Refuge. Brome immediately shouted the alarm.

"They're coming! Everybeast to the Refuge now!" From across the valley mice, moles, hedgehogs, voles, squirrels, and otters ran for the Refuge. Frequent drills run through the previous weeks kept the creatures from a mad rush to the entrance tunnel. Still, with the vast numbers it took well past dark until the last Noonvalers were safely inside the building. Old and young were swiftly brought to the inner rooms. Able-pawed defenders took up their positions as Brome stood at the entrance tunnel and hurried the last Noonvalers inside. Looking to the north he saw the line of Silent Slavers on the north rim of the valley. Fear gripped his heart as he quickly ducked inside and had the moles roll the boulder into position.

Rassk and his vermin walked silently through the trees until they reached the valley rim on the wings of a storm. A crack of lightning caused him to look up. Angry boiling clouds were visible between lighting strikes. Rassk drew his sword and signaled his slavers into Noonvale. He watched as the last mouse crawled into a tunnel by the big rough building by the waterfall. His eyes surveyed the land. Here at last would be the place where he would set up his silent kingdom. How nice, he thought, for all those woodland creatures to go to the trouble of building his fort already. Signaling with his sword he led his slavers down the valley wall, the long slave line winding behind them.

Creeping quietly the horde crept past deserted cottages as they advanced on the Refuge. It was a truly terrifying sight to the defenders of the Refuge. The only light was from the lightning that gave a strange strobe effect to the night. With each bolt the slavers had crept closer and closer to their position. Silent and marching in perfect unison the invaders reached an open area of dry and dead grass in front of the Refuge.

Rassk pointed his sword at the faces of the defenders inside. Gesturing with the blade he made it clear he wanted them to come out and surrender.

"Take your vermin and leave here slaver!" It was the Vigil Keeper from the south bluffs. A gasp arouse from those inside. In all the confusion nobeast had remembered to check if that one had made it inside.

Rassk cocked his head to one side at the boldness of the creature. Raising two claws he pointed them at the challenger. Two masked rats sprang forward and charged with lowered spears. The Vigil Keeper swiftly drew a dagger from a pocket and deflected the spear points. Flashing left and right the rats fell slain from the small blade.

A cheer went up from those in the Refuge. It was quickly cut off as Rassk himself flourished his sword and stepped forward. Everybeast knew of the reputation of the masked and armored fox. Closing the distance between them swiftly Rassk began his attack. The Vigil Keeper defended bravely, but couldn't hope to match the skill of the fox. With an almost careless flick of his blade Rassk sent his opponents weapon sailing into the night. A hot wind started blowing strongly as Rassk kicked out with a footpaw. Catching the Vigil Keeper in the midriff caused that one to go flying backward against the wooden walls of the Refuge and collapse on the dry ground.

Brome watching from an upper level arrow slit could only cry out in horror as he cried out.

"Nnnooooooo!!!"

Rassk's sword flashed down.

_Sswish! Zzzzthpth! Thunk! Clang!_

Rassk's blade had been stopped. From seemingly out of nowhere another sword had blocked the slash and buried itself point first into the wall of the Refuge. Rassk started at the sword in wonder. Keen as a mid-winter icicle, a single fuller ran the length of the blade to the scrolling silver hilt. Bound in black leather the sword was unadorned save for a ruby red pommel stone.


	8. Song of the Sword

A/N; (still in announcer voice) _Lllllllllllleets get ready to rumblllllllllllllee!!!!!!!_

8.

Song of the Sword

Martin and the rest of the Redwallers had made a march worth of song and remembrance. They had been fortunate enough to avoid any problems on the trail and had made great time as they trekked northwards. As the distance to Noonvale grew less and less distant, the fire of the warrior grew in Martin's eyes. Guided by Emalet's excellent directions the small party was able to shave weeks off their travel time. Even so it was approaching mid-summer when Martin gazed on the lands of his birth. The flat lands devoid of trees and vegetation with outcroppings of rock scattered here and there offered little in the way of shelter from the blazing sun. The nights were cold and windswept and caused the Redwallers to huddle together in an effort to keep themselves warm.

Finally the party came to the banks of a river. It would have been a mighty watercourse had the spring been normal, but as it was the water level was drastically reduced. Smiling at their good fortune the Redwallers found an easy fording spot and continued their drive north. Two day's later Martin started recognizing sights along the riverbank. He knew they were approaching Noonvale. As customary the travelers laid down well after night had fallen. It was then that Emalet returned to the group of friends.

She landed at the edge of their camp with both welcome and disturbing news. "Martin, Skipper! Thank the fates I found you in time. Noonvale is three hours march north from here if you leave now! Sadly Rassk is almost to the valley as well. I fear he may arrive before you can."

Martin immediately leapt up. "Then there's no time to lose!" Moving swiftly to where the packs that held his armor he began unloading them. "Gonff, Skip, could you please help me get this lot on."

Emalet caught Martin's eye as his friends girded him for war. "What do you want me to do with this Martin?" The owl was holding up a small linen bag.

"Please put it in my travel pouch Emalet. I'll take care of that myself."

Shortly thereafter Martin stood in his full battle armor. The plates of steel were adorned with no decoration. They were plain and simple. Designed with battle in mind, the creature in the distant past, that had made it, had not spared any excess effort on frivolity. There was only one purpose to the armor, to protect the creature who wore it in the chaos of battle. With his shield slung over his back and his helmet in the crook of his arm he had a swift council of war with his companions while sitting around a small fire. "I will make the main assault on this Rassk character. When I have him occupied sneak behind his lines Skip and then you and the crew will let them have it. Gonff, Columbine, sling away on the first volley, but then start freeing the slaves. If Skipper gets in trouble he may need swift reinforcements."

"How do you know the slaves will fight?" asked Columbine.

Martin gripped the hilt of the sword at his side tight as he answered. "Some might not Columbine. Those who have been prisoner long enough to accept their lot for instance. But others, I'm sure, will be waiting for a chance to strike back. It's up to you and Gonff to ensure we have that ready means of fresh troops." Martin stood up and addressed the entire war party. "Hear me now. You have traveled with me this long journey away from Redwall. I tell you now we are within three hours of our destination. We go to stand as a barrier for those who cannot stand for themselves. Those we face are as evil as any horde of vermin we have faced before. They will not ask for, nor give any quarter. It is up to us to ensure they don't EVER have the opportunity to enslave another free beast as long as the seasons run their course. You know your duties, and I am confident you will all do them well!" Loud cheers met Martin's words.

Columbine then came up to the armored mouse. While he had been speaking she had reached into the Warriors travel pouch and pulled out the token from Noonvale. Without a word she attached it in its proper place on Martin's armor. Martin looked down at the thing. Glancing up to Columbine he gave a quick nod of acceptance and satisfaction. He then placed the helmet on his head. Unslinging his shield from behind his back he gripped it on his left arm. "From here on out we march in silence. Onward to Noonvale!"

Three hours later Martin was marching quickly through the dark woods by himself. He had given the others their instructions and they had left to carry them out. Up ahead Martin could see the glow of a small campfire. Reaching the spot he found the site deserted, but clear tracks were running to the north and the valley rim was plain in the dying light of the remaining embers. Martin followed the tracks until he too came to the edge of Noonvale.

Through the lightning now flickering above him he again gazed down into the valley he had left so long ago. Between the trees he caught glimpse of a lone cloaked figure dashing towards the line of what must be the Silent Slavers. Martin started down the bluffs, after the figure as it bellowed out a challenge he could not hear due to the hot wind that had just arisen. Seeing the figure cut down two rats Martin couldn't help but be impressed by the creatures courage. His pride turned to shock as he saw the masked fox confront the figure. Martin drew his sword as he pounded down the slope drawing nearer and nearer. He only paused an instant to duck the flying blade the masked fox had sent flying from the paw of the cloaked one. Martin looked at the blade, and fresh waves of his sense of duty came to him at the sight of it. Lowering the visor on his helmet, he turned back just as the black armored fox swung his sword high for the finishing blow. Martin put on an extra burst of speed and flung his sword before him expertly.

_Clang!_

It had the desired effect. The masked one's blade had been blocked and given Martin a few more extra and precious seconds to run the final distance as his enemy stared in wonder at his sword. Martin arrived on the scene like the thunder echoing around the vale.

Bringing the shield on his arm up in a great arc, the Warrior bashed it straight into the face of Rassk driving him back a full twenty paces. Grabbing his blade out of the refuge wall in the same movement, Martin twisted his sword in a quick circle and stood ten paces away facing the black armored fox, his red cape fluttering in the wind. Suddenly lighting split the sky all around them.

_CRAAAAACK! BOOOOM!!_

White-hot bolts of energy circled around the two swordsbeasts lighting the dry grass on fire as it did. The lightning continued along the ground leaving a wide circle of growing flames around the combatants. They were lost to view as the fire grew higher and higher about them.

Martin didn't hear the thunder. With the warrior spirit of his ancestors rising in him, he faced his opponent. Martin took a classic ready stance, shield held up before him, blade pointing at Rassk, standing on the balls of his footpaws, legs shoulder width apart. Rassk was in the same position across the small arena of fire they were now locked into.

Their first few strikes were quick fast blows of their swords and shields, more intended to probe the other one for any weaknesses than to cause any real damage. A few swift slashes of the sword caught either on shield rim or sword hilt and then the two would back off and start circling each other again. Rassk could already tell he was dealing with one who knew all the secrets of the art of the blade. Disengaging, yet again from Martin, with a flourish Rassk raised his sword into a salute position with his right paw. Martin was almost surprised that a vermin would demonstrate such blade manners and returned the gesture. He too had become aware of his adversary's obvious skills with a sword.

As the flames around them grew higher still, the real battle began. Rassk leapt forward and stabbed at Martin's face. Martin quickly spun away to the right of the attack and brought his own sword up to slash at Rassk's head. The fox ducked into a kneeling position and swiped at Martin's feet, but only cleaved thin air as the Warrior jumped over the sword blade. Martin swung his sword down at Rassk only to have his weapon turned by a swift block of Rassk's shield. Rassk stabbed up only to see Martin bring his shield into play once more and bat away the lunging blade. For the second time Martin's shield rim made heavy contact with the iron mask on Rassk's face, sending him flying head over tail towards the edge of the flames.

Martin did not press his advantage. Instead he waited for Rassk to stop flailing around and look back up at him. "Get up," was all Martin said.

Rising swiftly to his footpaws Rassk came in swinging. Martin was ready for him. Parry met thrust, slash met shield, slice met lunge as the two fenced their way around in the circle of fire. The swords of the Slaver and Warrior moving so fast it seemed the pommel stones left red and green patterns over the liquid silver of the sword blades.

Rassk was about to start in on a complex combination of movements, but Martin was quicker. As Rassk came at him the Warrior raised his shield to chest height and drove straight into Rassk with it. The collision caused Rassk to waves his limbs wildly trying to regain his balance. Martin quickly swung his sword and sent Rassk's sword paw flying behind his back. Rassk was able to hold onto his weapon but just barely. Kicking out with his right leg, the greave on Martin's shin made sudden impact to the back of Rassk's knee. That and another shove of the Warrior's shield caused Rassk to fall backwards again. Using the momentum of his fall Rassk rolled backwards over his shoulder and came to rest in a crouch hiding behind his shield sword ready to stab upwards. Martin though had stayed where he was a few paces away. His voice was as cold and hard as the steel in his gauntleted paw. "Stand, and face a true Warrior vermin. I am Martin, the Warrior of Redwall. Remember that name in the time you have left before my sword sends you to Hellgates."

Rassk called on every trick he knew to find a way to defeat the Warrior Mouse. Try as he would though he could not escape the flashing steel of the star-metal blade or the pounding shield the Warrior was using as much as an offensive weapon as his sword. Soon Rassk's armor was dented in many places from the unyielding shield rim and had several long deep scratches from the keen edge of Martin's blade. Rassk had yet to make a mark on Martin's shining armor.

Round and round the flaming circle the two blademasters dueled. Martin took and stayed on the offense. He knew his enemy was almost equal to him in battle skill, so he chose the most simple of tactics; the best defense is a good offense. By continuously attacking with both sword and shield Martin was able to keep Rassk off balance. Martin also knew how to use his own sword to the fullest of its abilities. Whereas Rassk only fought with the actual blade of his weapon, Martin used all parts of his to score crushing blows to his foe. The quillions of the hilt and the red pommel stone were also being used to pummel more damage into his rival.

Rassk knew he was outclassed. Try as he could there was no way to penetrate the defenses of the hot-eyed Warrior facing him. Rassk was given further evidence of the Warrior's skill as Martin's next set of sword strokes rained down on the bruised fox. Battering his sword aside, the mouse swung his blade inward and caught the inside rim of Rassk's shield causing it to fly out perpendicular from him. The Warrior let the momentum of the swipe carry him into a spin on the spot. The Warrior's own shield came whipping around with tremendous force and smashed into the newly unguarded paw of Rassk that gripped his shield. Rassk felt all feeling leave his paw as his shield thudded to the ground. Rassk was barely able to bring his own sword back up time to block a downward slice of the Warrior's blade.

The constant battering of the mouse was having another effect on the fox. Rassk's limbs grew more and more leaden as the duel went on. His reaction times became slower and as a result more and deeper cuts were riven into his black armor. The jagged edges of the tears in his armor caused many small abrasions to Rassk that caused him much discomfort as he tried to block Martin's blade.

Martin could tell he was winning. With his fierce warrior blood coursing in his veins he drove his enemy backwards. Striking blow upon blow Martin began to see chips hacked out of the fox's blade. With a tremendous swing of his sword Martin sheared Rassk's sword off at the hilt. The massive force of the impact caused Rassk to again go flying head over tail to the ground. By some random chance Rassk's footpaw kicked Martin's swordpaw and sent the unmarked sword spinning high into the air. Landing heavily on his back Rassk saw his chance. He reached under a gauntlet for a hidden knife intent on driving it up and under Martin's breastplate. Rassk swiftly lunged as Martin, staggering back after the blow, had his eyes on the sword spinning above his head.

A/N; _I spent more time proofreading and editing this chapter than any of the previous ones. It's taken me the better part of a week to get it to a place I was happy with. If you think all the extra effort was worth it, please leave a comment. As I've said before I do take your comments seriously. As an example in my original draft Martin didn't use his shield nearly as much as he does in the final version during the duel. The positive feedback I got on the shield from the Chapter 2 reviews made me write in more action with Martin's shield. I can't promise you I will use all of your suggestions, because I do still have a very clear direction of where the story is going next, but there is room for suggestion._

_Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to get right. Though it has been scrapped and completely rewritten twice now. We'll just have to see._


	9. Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat

A/N; _Ding! Round two._

9.

Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat

"Nnnooooooo!!" Brome watched in helpless horror as Rassk's sword flashed down. The pain of his failure in his duty fell as quickly as the Masked One's sword. Brome shut his eyes unable to witness the terrible sight.

_Clang!_

Brome's eyes snapped open at the sound. A sword of wondrous beauty had flown out from the dark woods and turned Rassk's blade. The sound of the steel on steel was like the first note of a chorus of hope to the beleaguered Noonvalers. What was even more impressive was the sight of the armored warrior who dashed in and claimed the singing blade.

From head to toe he was garbed in bright plates of steel. Those in the Refuge couldn't see his face since the visor on his helmet was lowered. Just the sight of him though, sent shivers down the spines of all who looked at him. A red cape billowed out in the gusting wind as the Warrior and Slaver looked at each other.

Suddenly all beasts that were watching the two threw their paws to their eyes as sheets of lighting rained down.

Craaaack!! Booom!! 

Brome blinked his eyes to clear away the after image of the blinding lightning bolts. When he looked out the window again all he could see was a wide circle of flames. No hint of the two battlebeasts was visible through the wall of fire. The hot wind caused the tree limbs to sway and crackle. Combined with the roar of the inferno in the common area, Brome couldn't hear any sounds of combat coming from within the conflagration. Questions from those around him were audible though.

"Was that Martin?"  
"What a sword! Did you see that sword?"  
"Did the lightning kill them?"  
"Where did they go?"

"Quiet everybeast!" Brome had to raise his even his considerably loud voice in order to be heard over the clamor. "We don't know if that was Martin or not. I can tell you I never saw Martin wear armor. Also that is not the sword I remember he won back from Badrang. Whoever that is we owe him a debt of thanks, should he survive against Rassk."

More shouts came at Brome. "We need to help him!"  
"Aye, we can't just leave him out there alone."

It was as if the fighting spirit of the armored warrior was empowering the defenders of the Refuge. Above the commotion a loud shout was heard outside.

"Redwaaaallllll!!"

The defenders looked at each other in puzzlement. One young mouse turned to Brome. "Mister Brome sir, what's a red wall?"

But Brome wasn't listening. He quickly turned to a nearby squirrel. "Oakson quick, climb out onto the roof and tell me what's happening."

It was the work of a moment for the agile climber. He called down to Brome. "It's an otter crew sir! They're attacking the rest of the slavers!"

"How are they doing? Are they winning?" called a voice from inside.

"Aye, they've got the slavers hiding behind their shields. By thunder you should see this crew work. It's like a hail of sling stones. All the slavers have their backs to us so they can show more shields to the otters!" Oakson's voice then grew very concerned. "The Slavers are looking ready to charge them sir!"

Brome called back up to Oakson. "Can you see how far away the Slavers are Oakson? Could we hit them from here with our bows?"

Oakson quickly judged the distance. "Aye sir I think we can. We won't be very accurate at this range, and the smoke will block most of our line of sight, but we should be able to give them something to think about. Send up a score of archers with full quivers!"

Skipper was in complete control of his crew. While Martin had made the main assault on Rassk, Skipper and his otters worked silently around behind the Slavers lines. As planned, Skipper had waited until Martin was fully engaged with Rassk before he made his move.

As soon as the unexpected, yet highly fortunate, lighting and ensuing fire had blocked Martin and Rassk from view Skipper went into action. "Let 'em have it buckos! Redwaaaallllll!!"

A rain of heavy sling stones flew straight and true at the unsuspecting Slavers. Several were felled before they turned as one and presented a wall of shields to the otters. The Silent Slavers began a slow march toward the line of the otter crew, but launched no missiles of their own. Their training and experience had been against vermin and searat foes. They had never before faced an enemy that relied solely on cast weapons. As such the Slavers had no slings or arrows of their own, and their heavy spears would never carry the distance to where the otters bravely stood their ground

Skipper called out commands as he whipped off another stone. "All back slow crew. Keep slingin' hard but don't let 'em in close!"

Sensing the new tactic the Silent Slaves broke into a fast charge at the otters. With spears bristling from between their shields they quickly closed the distance. Skipper and the otters met the charge with loaded slings. The tough woven vine slings did little against the iron shields of the Slavers though. The natural agility of the otters saved many from certain death at the ends of the Slavers spears. Still several of the otters soon had serious injuries. The vermin were just about to press home their attack when arrows came speeding out of the darkness.

While not very accurate the darts caused much confusion in the Slaver lines. The smoke of the common area fire had obscured the Refuge and prevented the Slavers from knowing where the arrows had come from. A second volley of lethal shafts poured in, cutting down several more Slavers. Throwing their shields over their heads the Slavers looked frantically about for the source of the missiles.

Seeing his enemies thrown into confusion Skipper roared out more commands. "Fall back smart like lads and lasses!" The otters fell back to a position where they could again bring their slings into action. "Let fly mates!" Once more a hail of hard river rocks was sent flying into the slavers with devastating accuracy.

Now it was the Slavers who were in trouble. In front of them they faced the competent fire of the otter crew. To the rear arrows were flying in from the smoke cloud with such randomness that it was impossible to dodge them. The raging fire prevented the Slavers from a run to the right, and the steep valley sides cut off their left flank. With their leader gone and multiple holes already in their lines, the Silent Slavers were hard pressed to keep up a solid defense. As more sling stones and arrows rained in the number of Slavers fell quickly.

Skipper sensed victory but held his crew from a direct charge. "We got 'em now mates! Keep a slingin'!" The last Silent Slavers fell under a furious hail of missiles from the otters and defenders.

"Put up y'slings mates!" Skipper looked in the direction of where the arrows had come from. Cupping his paws to his mouth he shouted, "Hold your fire! That's the last of 'em! Hold your fire!" Turning to his crew the brawny otter was pleased to see that the injured otters were starting to be cared for. Skipper glanced around and saw Gonff and Columbine working to free the slaves behind a large building. "Ahoy Gonffo me lad! How goes the liberatin'?"

Gonff shouted back at the otter chieftain as he worked to pick the locks of the slaves. "Makin' headway but there's a lot more slaves than we were countin' on matey. Most of 'em are in pretty bad shape too. Tis more than Columbine and meself can handle. Send over to that big place by the waterfall. There's got to be somebeasts 'round here who can help. Haha there we go you old lock you, opened up for the Prince of Lock picks you did, thankee kindly."

Skipper shook his head at the always jovial Gonff as he and the uninjured otters came over to help. Turning to Streamer, Skipper gave swift instruction. "Shift yourself over that pig place by the rocks. There's to many injured crew and others for us to deal with." Streamer touched his rudder to the brow in salute and ran off.

On the roof of the Refuge the squirrel archers herd the shout to cease fire. Oakson called out the commands. "Down bows! Hold your fire!" He then called down to Brome and the others inside. "I thinks they're done for! It must have been one of those otters who called for us to stop shootin'."

A mouse standing next to him wasn't so sure. "It could be a trap. We don't know that was one of the otters."

"Silent Slavers don't shout mate," said Oakson with a twinkle in his eye.

The mouse turned somewhat red. "Oh, right."

Great cheers met the squirrel's words. Brome's voice called up for more information. "Wonderful news Oakson! Can you see Rassk or that armored warrior?"

"Sorry sir, it's still just flame and smoke from all that lightning. Hold on. There's a beast runnin' this way. It's one of them otters! Open the tunnel! I think he needs help!"

Brome quickly shouted down to the pair of moles who were guarding the entrance as he rushed for the entrance. "Get that boulder out of the way! Hurry!"

With a quick shower of earth and rubble the two moles dug a neat trench. The boulder rolled to one side into the new depression leaving the tunnel open.

Brome rushed out as Streamer came running up. "Sir!" shouted the otter. "We need help sir. The Slavers are all dead, but the slaves themselves and several of our otter crew are in bad shape. Please sir as many as you can, send them behind that big building on the other side of the clearing!"

Brome turned back to the Refuge tunnel. "All beasts to the far side of Council Lodge! Bring any food, drink, and healing herbs with you! Hurry!"

A flood of willing paws thundered out of the Refuge heading to the scene, led by Streamer. Soon all the slaves had been freed and were being cared for by the kind Noonvalers. The injured otters, likewise found the healing skills of their new friends more than up to the job of binding their wounds.

When he was confident all freed slaves and otters were being cared for Brome sought out Streamer. "Thank you for coming when you did sir otter. We would have been in desperate trouble without your brave actions."

"Thankee kindly sir," said the otter. "But it's Skipper, Gonff, Columbine, and of course Martin who you really should be thanking."

Brome's face went white and his eyes wide as he heard the name of the fabled Warrior Mouse. "Martin did you say? Martin son of Luke?"

Seeing the shock on Brome's face Streamer began leading the mouse to where Gonff, Columbine, and Skipper stood staring at the flames still raging in the center of the valley. "Aye sir, that's the one. Ahoy Skip! This one's been asking after Martin. I'm thinking you can help him better than me."

Brome walked in a daze towards the otter and two mice. He found his voice shaky with disbelief. "Is that warrior in armor really Martin the Warrior, son of Luke? Did he really come here?"

Columbine turned her kind eyes to the shaken mouse. "Yes sir, it is. Emalet gave him your message and we all set out for this place as fast as we could to….oh my!"

As she had been talking Martin's sword was seen spinning above the flames through a gap in the smoke. The eyes of all gathered watched in shock as lighting again struck the valley.

Craaakkk! 

The white-hot bolt caused the blade to glow for a moment, before it was sent shooting back down with tremendous force.

A/N; _Okay so that was fun. The next few chapters might be a bit slower coming out, since I've felt a dire need to re-write some major sections. Add in my 55-hour workweek at two jobs and it takes quite a bit of time away from writing. That and the lack of a computer for the next several days adds to that dilemma._

_Also if you can correctly translate the title of this chapter, send me your guess via PM and I'll let you in on a secret from an upcoming chapter._


	10. Healing Rain

10.

Healing Rain

Martin sensed too late Rassk's movement. He only had time to take his eyes off the flying sword and look down at Rassk. As he did the fur on the back of his neck stood up as lightning struck his sword.

_CRAAACKKK!_

The sword seemed to glow for a moment before it was shot downward faster than any eye could follow. Martin was thrown flat on his back from the blast and blacked out.

He woke moments later as fat raindrops began falling thick and fast around him. His sword was impaled in the breastplate of Rassk and had driven through the fox pinning him neatly to the ground. The silent fox would never again rise to enslave another free beast.

The rain sent up clouds of steam from the sword blade. With raindrops pinging off his armor Martin walked to where the fox lay. Testing the handle he found it cool enough to grasp and pulled it out of the dead fox. Stepping back a few paces, Martin ran an expert eye along the length of the blade, to find it unmarked. With a sharp flick of his paw Martin sent rainwater and blood flying from the steel. Laying the flat part of the blade closest to the hilt atop the scabbard at his side, Martin placed his free paw on the topside of the blade. With a smooth motion he drew his sword across the top of the scabbard, wiping off any remaining blood and water as he did so. A short thrust quickly returned the sword to its place of peace inside the black leather. Turning from the fallen fox, Martin the Warrior walked through the clouds of steam and mist towards the sounds of his friend's voices.

_CRAAACKKK!_

The lighting bolt hit the spinning sword causing it to glow momentarily before it was shot down and out of sight.

"Strike me rudder! Did you jus' see that!?" Skipper was in shock at what he had just witnessed.

"Aye, matey you don't see something…oy! What was that? Hahahaha! Feel that mates? It' rainin'!" Sure enough fat drops of water were falling not only on Gonff, but also on all creatures outside. The rain came down harder and harder until the ground became a wet, sodden, muddy, mess. The joy of the Noonvalers was without limit as the rain fell.

Then Gonff spotted the figure walking out of the mist. "Look mates! It's Martin! He's won! C'mon, first one to peg him with a mud ball gets extra breakfast!"

The always playful thief scooped up a pawful of mud and went splashing through the puddles towards the armored mouse. He was only halfway to his friend when Martin collapsed. Dropping the mud Gonff put on an extra burst of speed and called out over his shoulder. "Columbine! Martin's down! Come quickly"

Gonff dropped to the ground and tore off the Warrior's helmet as he started searching for wounds. Columbine, Skipper, Brome, and a host of Noonvalers were not far behind. "Where is he hurt Gonff?" asked Columbine.

But Gonff only burst out laughing. "Hahahahahahahahaha! I don't know how he does it. There's not a scratch on him! I think he's just fallen asleep! Never could stay awake after a battle this one! Hahahahahahaha!"

Columbine swatted her husband's ear as she started pulling off Martin's armor. "Can't stay awake after a battle my eye you cake thieving rascal! Last time it was because of the terrible wounds that horrible wildcat gave him. This time it's just sheer exhaustion. Thank the fates he's in no real danger."

Brome's eyes grew wide as he knelt next to the Warrior. "You mean Martin fought a wildcat and won?"

Columbine continued to pull off armor as she answered. "That he did sir. Nearly killed him too. We were all so worried about him. Is there any place we can get him out of this rain?"

Brome was about to answer when a new voice was heard. "I know a place. Pick him up and follow me." It was the same creature who had kept vigil in the south woods. Bending down the hooded figure picked up the token that Emalet had given to Martin.

Columbine finished removing the last piece of armor when Skipper came up and lifted Martin as if he were no more than a feather. He turned to the Vigil Keeper who still had the hood of its cloak up, covering the face. "Lead on."

Skipper followed the Vigil Keeper through the crowds of rejoicing Noonvalers. All were celebrating the dual victories of the end of Rassk and drought. After a fair hike the spot was reached. "Lay him down there. I will make sure he fully recovers. Please let none disturb us."

Skipper laid the victorious mouse down where indicated. Rising, the burly otter bowed to the Vigil Keeper and left to return to his friends. He last sight of the pair was the Vigil Keeper retying the Noonvale token to Martin's right arm.

A/N; _A short chapter I know. The next ones will be a bit longer. In case anyone was wondering, _Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat_ from Chapter 9 is Latin for Fortune Favors the Bold. The secret you would have gotten had anyone guessed correctly was that Gonff was going to start a mud fight. Yes I know he really didn't, and it's not a big plot point, but hey I'm not going to give away all my secrets. We'll all just have to wait to see where we're heading next._


	11. The Song

A/N; _Thank you to all who have left relevant reviews thus far. I do however have a request. While I greatly appreciate the kind reviews I've gotten, they're all saying the same thing time and again. If you like my story great, leave a comment, but more importantly tell me why you liked it. If you didn't like my story I'm fine with that too, but again I would ask for an explanation._

_One or two sentence reviews all along the lines of, "This is great, update soon," get somewhat boring to read after a while. I'm doing my best to write a good story that fit's not only the way I think the plot should go, but how Redwall fans would like it to go as well. Please put some thought into your reviews. One good critique is worth more to me as a writer than a thousand one sentence "this was great" comments. Is the story believable? Are the characters in keeping with Redwall canon? Is the action to drawn out? Is the dialogue something you would see canon characters saying? Are there plot points you would change? Are there plot points you don't understand? Are the descriptions of the scenes rich enough for you to tell what's going on with who and where? While some questions may not be able to be answered due to me not wanting to reveal my storyline, other questions like those are what I'm looking for reviewers to answer. I'm not asking for a full book report, but a paragraph from one would be better than the same cookie-cutter comments I've been getting._

_I'm not trying to sound mean, and please don't take it as I am or that I don't like people saying they like my story. I couldn't be more proud that people like my work. Just ask my family (well you can't since you don't know who they are but it's a figure of speech) and they would tell you I have been very exited to get good reviews. It's just now that I know you like it; I'm looking for a more thought out response._

_Sorry for the long note before the chapter, but I felt the need to say it. I get the feeling that several of those who have been reviewing this story are still in high school, and a look at various profiles confirms that for some. I'll tell you this much about myself, I graduated college last year and as such know what a good book review looks like. I'm not asking for a college level critique, but "I liked it because it was good," was something that hopefully we left behind in 4__th__ or 5__th__ grade. From the voice of experience it will only do you good to be able to read something and be able to tell in very clear reasons why you liked it or not. I really don't care if you leave a review or not. But if you do leave a review, please put some effort into it, and try to not say the same thing every time. _

_That being said I will tell you that I had quite a hard time writing this chapter. I wrote it, scrapped it, re-wrote it, scrapped it again, re-wrote a third version of the chapter, scrapped that, brought back the second version minus the last half of that version, dug the third version out of the trash and used some of that material, and made up quite a bit of stuff up on the fly until I finally came up with something I was happy with. After all that it took me over two days to proof read this chapter. As you can tell I put a lot of time into my writings, which is the big reason why I'm asking for well thought out responses. Plot suggestions are still welcome, as I've run into a bit of writers' block. While I have a good idea of where the storyline will go next, helpful ideas are always appreciated. If I don't use your idea I will try to send a PM explaining why. And now without further ado, Chapter 11 of _A Mask and A Song. _So far it's my favorite chapter in this story and my favorite piece of fiction I've written. I hope you like it as much as I do._

11.

The Song

The rain continued to fall as the new day came to Noonvale. It was a steady shower of warm water that filled the land with hope again. Anywhere a beast looked were signs of the land healing itself. The rivers and streams laughed again as water flowed over the rocks in their beds. The crops, orchards, and woodlands that had stood dry and wilted for so long now drank up the life giving liquid into their stems and leaves. The plants dry brown colors were now tinted with the first shades of new green life. The rain fell all during that day and throughout the night. The residents of Noonvale skipped, hopped, and sang. Little ones threw mud balls at each other, Gonff having started the messy melee.

Slightly north of the valley Martin lay recovering from his long trek and battle. His still form was protected from the downpour by the knotty old willow tree he was laid under. It wasn't until early evening that he woke.

"Hmmm, where am I?" His voice sounded strange. It was almost as if he were hearing it from underwater. He tried to open his eyes, but found they had been bound shut by a snug blindfold. He started to sit up when a pair of paws pushed him gently back down. The voice that came was in the same muffled tone as his own.

"Lie back down and relax. Your friends are unhurt, Noonvale is once again secure, and you need to rest." Martin couldn't tell if it was maid or male that had spoken.

"What happened? Why can't I see?"

"Your eyes took a bad shock with all the lighting that struck around you. Your vision should be fine, but for now your eyes need time to rest. Likewise the thunder caused no permanent damage, but I would wager your hearing is none too good right now."

"You would be right. Who are you?"

"I am the one you first saved by throwing your sword before you to deflect the fox's blade. You saved my life. Thank you."

"You're welcome, but I meant what is your name?"

"Lately the Noonvalers have taken to calling me the Vigil Keeper."

"Vigil Keeper? What were you waiting for?"

"For you, Martin, son of Luke. It was I that told Brome to send Emalet to find you. Once the threat of Rassk was made clear to us I knew that you would be the only one who could save our valley. You saved us all so long ago, I knew you would again."

A tear soaked into the blindfold as Martin answered. "I didn't save everyone that summer."

"What do you mean?"

"Forget it." Martin rolled over and turned his back on where he thought the Vigil Keeper was sitting. However the muted voice wouldn't leave him alone.

"Do you speak of all those who died at Marshank, Martin, or just one in particular?"

Martin felt himself becoming somewhat annoyed. This Vigil Keeper was quite perceptive, even though the creature was just a disembodied and stifled voice to him. "I regret the loss of all those who have followed me into battle and fallen. None of those good beasts should have had to die. I was the one who led them all, I was the one they were looking to, to protect them, and I was the one who failed them!" His voice grew louder as the weight of those losses came to him. More tears soaked into the blindfold.

The Vigil Keeper was a long time in answering. When words did come Martin could tell, even through his cotton ears that the creature was trying to sound kind. "Martin, would you die for your friends?"

The question shocked Martin. Either this creature had talked to Columbine and heard of that discussion or had had dealings with warriors of his caliber before. "Aye. If it meant they would live a peaceful life I would gladly trade my life for that to happen."

"And do you think that those who have fallen around you felt any different?" When Martin didn't answer the Vigil Keeper continued. "Columbine told me that she was the first to hear of your time at Marshank."

_Aha! I knew it!_ Thought Martin. "When did you talk to Columbine?"

Martin thought he heard a quick laugh. "You've been asleep all day long Warrior. I've had time to meet your new friends. Columbine said that it seemed like you had come to terms with what happened at that place."

Martin rolled back onto his back to answer. "I thought I had. But as I came closer and closer to this place the memory of all those I had left came back. The shame I had felt when I abandoned all my friends here came back to me as well on the march from Redwall."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of Martin. Nobeast in Noonvale ever thought less of you for leaving as you did. While I'm sure we all would have wanted you to stay with us, it seemed we all knew why you had left."

"I can think of one who wouldn't have wanted to see me. And now he's gone and I can't even apologize to him."

"Who do you speak of?"

"Urran Voh. I'll never be able to say I'm sorry for what happened to…" but Martin couldn't bring himself to say Rose's name. "He never fully approved of me. I don't know if it was because I was and still am a warrior or because of …" again Martin's voice trailed off at the thought of the mousemaid he had lost.

"Urran Voh was doing as all fathers do Martin. Trying to protect his little girl. He only feared what all parents' fear, their children growing up and no longer needing them. True you were everything Urran wasn't and feared, a young, good looking, passionate, decisive, Mouse Warrior who had stolen his daughter's heart. He on the other paw was starting toward his middle seasons, was unsure as to where his children were that summer, was wracked with doubts about Rose and Brome's choices, and as all parents do worried constantly about them. I do think that when you were here he had a grudging respect for you, and as the seasons went on after your departure it developed into a healthy admiration."

"You know an awful lot about that family." Martin half-sat up resting on his forearms.

"Let's just say the family of Urran Voh and I have been very close over the seasons."

"Regardless, I don't see why Urran Voh would admire the one who sent his daughter to her death."

"Martin, you didn't send Rose to her…"

"I know!" Martin finally snapped. When he spoke it was as if the emotions he had been holding back and kept under such careful check had finally been let loose. He sat bolt upright and started screaming. "It wasn't me! It was Badrang, I've told myself that countless times. I almost believed it when Columbine said it back at Redwall. It doesn't change the fact that she would still be alive today if I had asked her to not attack the fortress. I swore to protect her, she died and I failed! I swore to uphold the code of the warrior; I killed Badrang out of hate, I failed! I swore to never desert my friends; I ran from them, I failed! I didn't even have the courage to face her father after her death, and I ran like a coward. All I have ever known of this place is failure and loss!  
"Even now I don't think I can bring myself to set paw in that valley. As soon as I'm rested I have a token of my own to leave, then I will return to Redwall and never leave that place again." The blindfold was, by now, soaked with the tears of shame flowing from the closed eyelids. Breathing heavily he lay back down again. Martin was glad he couldn't see the Vigil Keeper. He wouldn't want to see the look on that one's face on the realization that Noonvale's great hero thought himself a crying shameful coward.

"Did you love her?"

It was a simple enough question, but it tore into Martin with more force than any blade or claw ever had. "She was everything to me. For those two and a half weeks I saw myself in a future without having to carry my sword. I saw us having a family. I had even thought of the perfect place in Noonvale to build our house. I loved her from the moment I saw her." Martin had no idea why he was pouring his heart out to a creature he couldn't see or even hear properly. He did know that somehow letting it all out to this creature provided a balm to his heart as nothing had before.

"Even now after all this time?"

Through his tears the Warrior nodded. "Even now. There has never been any other. She set me free from captivity in Marshank to lock me in chains even more tightly than those ever could have been. I don't know if she even knew."

The muffled voice of the Vigil Keeper grew dimmer as Martin again started falling into the realms of sleep. "She knew Martin. She always did." Martin wasn't sure if it was his taxed hearing, but he thought he heard the sounds of sobbing come from the Vigil Keepers voice.

_She knew, she always did._ The thought kept bouncing around Martin's mind until sleep finally claimed him. That night his dreams were not of spectral images from his past shrouded in gray mist. The smiling face of Rose appeared to him and kept saying over and over, "I love you Martin. I always have." The new knowledge gave Martin the most peaceful and restful sleep he had had, since his last night on the cliffs with the mousemaid.

Martin woke the next morning to the sounds of rain still coming down overhead. Yet, to the east the clouds had broken to reveal a bright sunrise. The shining dawn bathed the woods in a shower of golden dripping light. He was glad to find the blindfold had been removed and his eyesight and hearing were as sharp and clear as ever. A maiden's song was the first sound to reach his ears.

"You will find me in Noonvale on the side of a hill,  
When the summer is peaceful and high,  
There where streamlets meander the valley is still,  
'Neath the blue of a calm cloudless sky…"

At first the Warrior Mouse thought he was still asleep and dreaming. At only one other time in his life had he heard such a fine singing voice. Martin stood up and looked around, but all he could see was the curtain of willow branches around him. He cautiously moved out from under the tree as the song continued.

"Look for me at dawning when the earth is asleep.  
Till each dewdrop is kissed by the day,  
'Neath the rowan and alder a Vigil I'll Keep,  
Every moment that you are away…"

The song seemed to be coming from the nearby river. Walking silently to the west Martin gazed on the singing maiden. It was a very pretty mousemaid. She was standing between two old and knotted willow trees. In front of her the river laughed and gurgled while dragonflies glided lazily about her footpaws. She was dressed in a light purple traveling dress; a pale pink sash encircled her waist. The garlands of roses bordering the sash matched the scarf, still tied to Martin's arm, to perfection. Overhead a bright rainbow framed the scene. But that beauty paled in comparison to the song she was singing.

"The old earth gently turns as the seasons change slowly.  
All the flowers and leaves born to wane.  
Hear my song o'er the lea like the wind soft and lowly…

Martin added his own voice to the last line.

"Oh please come back to Noonvale again."

At the sound of his voice the mousemaid turned and stared at Martin. He however was rooted to the spot in shock. Only one word escaped his mouth. "Rose?"

"Martin!" Rose shouted out his name and ran to him, hurling herself into his arms. She started talked very rapidly in her excitement "I knew you would come, I just knew it. Then after everything you said last night, and what your friends have told me you've gone through, I can't believe that you…mmmph!"

Rose couldn't talk anymore since Martin had leaned his head down and kissed her. Rose couldn't remember a time she had felt as happy, exited, or nervous as at that moment. As he continued to kiss her, her nerves left and she was only caught up in the feel of the Warrior next to her. The muscled arms that held her, the broad back where she could feel several new scars under his fur, the scent of smoke that still hung on him from his duel all came rushing to her as they kissed. Her heart skipped several beats and time stood still during that enchanted moment.

Finally it was only the need for air that caused the two to break apart. Still holding her tight to him, Martin started stroking Rose's soft headfur. The long seasons of pain and angst were finally and completely gone from the Warrior. All that mattered was the mousemaid in his arms and the wonderful sense of happiness than now flooded through him.

Rose's voice was again muffled, but this time it was because she had buried her face into the fur at Martin's neck. "Wow! I have dreamed for so long for that kiss to happen."

Martin couldn't help but grin. "How was it?"

Rose looked up at him then. "You were and still are better than any dream my brave Warrior." She then laid her head down on Martin's shoulder again as he still had not let her go. Not that she wanted him to let her go anyway.

"Was that you last night? The Vigil Keeper?" Martin asked. Rose only nodded. "Then how come you didn't tell me then it was you?"

Rose looked up at him with a teasing expression. "And ruin this perfect morning?"

Martin laughed. "You mean to tell me that you knew I would wake with the dawn to your singing, with a perfect rainbow overhead and I would just take you in my arms and kiss you breathless?"

Rose flicked his ear playfully. "Well maybe not the rainbow, but I was pretty sure about the rest. Especially after you confessed your undying love last night." Martin felt his face flame at the memory. Rose laughed at him again. "Even after all this time you're still adorable when you're embarrassed."

Overhead the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the treetops causing golden rays of light to shine down on the river. Martin saw where one of the beams was shining. Reaching down he swept Rose off her paws and ran to the river. "Adorable when embarrassed am I? Let's see how embarrassed you'll be when you come home to Noonvale soaking wet!" With a laugh and a leap he jumped into the river carrying a squealing Rose with him.

They were both laughing uproariously when they surfaced. The next gleeful hour was spent splashing each other like Abbey Dibbuns in the pond shallows. Rose dunked Martin one last time before allowing him to help her back onto the bank. They sat down with Martin's back against an old tree trunk and Rose sitting comfortably in his lap, his arms around her waist. The morning sun was shining bright and clear as its rays dried the river water from them.

Rose pawed the scarf tied to Martin's arm. "I see you got my token."

"So it was you who sent it. I thought it was Brome's way of ensuring I came back here."

Rose looked up at Martin with delight in her hazel eyes. "I figured you would need your maidens colors when you would fight your battle. I was so proud to see you wearing this that night."

"Your scarf definitely reminded me of the reason why I'm a warrior. To protect all good beasts I meet. To stand up against bullies who would harm them. And to…mmm!" It was Martin's turn to be cut off mid-sentence as Rose kissed him this time. Rose was grinning when they broke apart. She could tell that she had just caused Martin's head to spin out of control in joy with her affections. "What was that for if I may ask?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him in mock–astonishment. "You need a reason for me to kiss you?"

Martin laughed and ruffled her head fur. "Never."

Rose laughed at the tickling sensation. "If you must know it was mainly because I've dreaming of kissing you for I can't count how many seasons now, and because you ramble a bit when you act the part of the brave Warrior Mouse."

"Is that what I was doing last night? Rambling as I played the brave Mouse Warrior?" Martin had a concerned look to his face as he asked the question.

Rose snuggled closer next to him when she answered. "Yes in a way. Columbine suggested that before I let you know I was still alive I make sure that you were completely healed from your fight and from your guilt. She told me what you had told her when Emalet found you. Gonff warned me it might take a bit of prying to get you to come out of your shell. It seems you've become a bit of tough nut to crack since you've been away. But I knew I could get you to talk. I always could."

Martin hugged her tighter as he responded. "That you could. And thank you so much for that last night. I was finally able to let go of everything, but really only right before I fell back asleep when you said you knew I loved you."

Rose's eyes brimmed with joyful tears at the recollection of that discovery. "You are so very welcome. I must admit, Martin that getting you to confess that was what I was after. I didn't know if what you felt towards me that summer was just because I was the first maid you had ever really met, or because of all the many adventures we had gone through, or if it was true love. I spent the rest of that night holding you and telling you over and over that I loved you too."

Martin smiled at the recollection. "I know. I had a dream all night long of your face saying just that. It was the most peaceful night I had known since that night you slept next to me on the cliffs."

Rose gave Martin another kiss at that. "What a sweet thing to say." The two mice sat in silence for a long while. Rose was on the verge of falling asleep when Martin spoke up again.

"Rose?" Martin waited until she looked up at him.

"Yes?"

For the first time since he had seen her on the riverbank Martin's face was somewhat grave. "How is it that you're alive? While I am somewhere quite beyond overjoyed that it's true, I did see what happened to you at Marshank, and then later Rowanoak, Grumm, and Pallum all said you were…well…"

"Dead?" Rose finished. Martin could only nod.

Rose took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her grin was gone from her face. "I don't remember very much of anything after I jumped on that horrible stoat. I do remember I tried to beat him with my sling, but you remember it was never very large and, well, neither am I. I woke up back here at Noonvale with a blanket draped over me. When I walked out of my room and saw my parents they were quite shocked. They believed Brome when he had told them I was dead. I guess he hadn't learned how to check a pulse properly, or my heart wasn't beating all that fast, or something. Mother could never quite explain it properly.  
"Needless to say I was still quite weak. Except for walking out of my room that day it was very hard for me to get around. After he learned a bit more about healing, Brome told me that due to where my head had hit the wall in Marshank, I wouldn't be able to walk properly for a long time. He looked through every book and scroll on healing in Noonvale to find a healing and recovery regimen that would enable me to move properly again. By the time that was settled Rowanoak had come back from Polleekin's tree house without you.  
"I so desperately wanted to travel south right then to find you. It was almost unbearable being apart from you. But Mother, Father, and Brome were right. I was in no position to travel anywhere and no one knew where you had gone. It took many long seasons before I was able to walk and run like I had used to. By the time that happened creatures were just starting to flee here because of Rassk. I couldn't leave to find you when there were so many to help.  
"After Father died it was too late to leave. I might be one of the few Noonvalers to have ever set foot outside the valley, but only to the Eastern Sea and of course where we had traveled after escaping Marshank. I somehow knew you would never want to return to that dreary place.  
"Then when Brome called the meeting to say that we would send for you, I still can't explain it, but I just somehow knew you were alive in Mossflower. So that's where I sent Emalet."

Martin squeezed Rose tighter as she finished her tale. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you Rose. I should have been."

Rose opened her eyes again and looked up at Martin. "You were with me Martin. The whole time. You were always in my heart."

Martin could only hug her close at her kind words. Realizing that her body weight was slowly cutting off the circulation to his legs, Martin stood up pulling Rose with him. "Well that's all in the past. I don't think we should talk about it again."

Rose's smile had returned as she walked paw in paw with Martin back to the tree where he had recovered from his duel. "I agree." She gestured to the few empty medicine bottles that were still on the ground. "Here, let's get this cleaned up and head back to Noonvale. I'm sure all your friends and all of Noonvale for that matter can't wait to see you."

Martin made a fine show of acting like it was the biggest and most dreary chore he had ever done. "Oh I suppose. But do I have to? They're all big and mean, and won't like me."

Rose laughed as she treated him like a naughty Dibbun. "Yes you do young mouse. Now hurry up or you get no dessert after supper."

Shortly thereafter Martin had packed all the healing supplies in a well-organized carrying case. Paw in paw with Rose, the two mice walked the newly damp trail back to Noonvale.

Rose had a question of her own for the Warrior. "Martin, last night you said you were going to leave a token of your own here in Noonvale. What is it?"

"Token? I don't know what you're talking about." Martin said with a grin.

"Martin the Warrior you know full well what I'm talking about. Now out with it. I told you my secret, you owe me one."

"All in due course Laterose," said Martin using her full title.

Rose gave an exasperated sigh. "Ugh! Martin! You know I only use my full name for very formal occasions." Martin only smiled back at her as they hiked back to the secret valley of Noonvale.

A/N; Stranger at the Abbey_ eat your heart out. And yes, I can say that on good authority as I'm the one who wrote _Stranger at the Abbey. _Personally I like this chapter better than that story for several reasons. First I put A LOT more time and effort into this chapter than that story. _Stranger_ was something I made up as I wrote it. As you know from above I spent a lot of time editing and re-writing this chapter. Hopefully all the hard work makes for a better chapter and storyline._

_Secondly (spoiler warning for _Stranger_) I didn't have to use a coma again to bring Rose back. You have no idea the relief I felt when I came up with the partial paralysis/ she-needs-time-for-physical-therapy idea. I was quite glad I thought of that, especially since it was around 3:00 in the morning when I did. I hate repeating major themes (except for the whole Rose being alive theme, I like that one) from one of my stories in a different one. I'm sure many small similarities are present, but from where I sit it's two different stories._

_Third I'm glad I kept the drafts of the second and third versions of this story and chucked the first version. The first version just plainly sucked and wasn't leading anywhere. I was able to combine the second and third versions and still have room left over to continue the story, and still have ideas I thought were good from both versions for later chapters. Wow that was a run on sentence if I've ever seen one, oh well._

_This chapter was probably quite over the top in terms of romantic sappiness. But think about it. What would you do if you had lived for so long thinking your one true love was dead and now all of a sudden they're back? You would probably do the same thing as Martin and just start snogging (what a great word from our British cousins across the Pond). Hopefully all the playing and talking after that brought the characters back down to reality a level or two. Still I don't mind over the top romance from two of my favorite fiction characters._

_Now comes the hard part, writing a believable scene with Martin, Rose, Columbine, Gonff, and everyone else all interacting together. I must admit I find it hard to write Gonff. His personality is just so out there that it's a stretch trying to write something that is still in canon character. Hopefully it will turn out decent. _


	12. Victory Parade

A/N; _I hate losing the information off my flash drive for no bloody stupid reason. The computer store owes me $40 for selling me a defective product. I had almost completed this chapter when for no reason it just deleted all the files I had saved on it. Much growling at stupid IT products. Well now this is written. I hope you like it. And of course I own no part of Redwall, especially the major quote from _Mossflower

12.

Victory Parade

"I said no! Now be off with you!" Columbine turned to Gonff. "Where are those Salamandastron hares when we need them?" A large crowd had turned up next to Council Lodge intent on traveling up the path to see Martin. Columbine and Skipper had wanted to honor Rose's request and had felled several saplings. They had placed the wood across the path to form a small barricade, but it was in danger of failing because of the number of creatures pressing against it. Columbine had immediately pressed Gonff and the rest of the otter crew into service to hold back the sea of Noonvalers.

Gonff took the hero-worship of his best friend in stride. "Can't fault 'em m'darling. They are all providing good bit of exercise by all this pushing against these saplings. Oi! Brome! You're the chieftain-type mouse around here. Can't you get a grip on all these crazy creatures?"

Brome was trying to hold back the crowd. Brome raised his voice to its considerable limit to be heard over the press of bodies. "Noonvale! QUIET!!" A hush finally descended in the glen. "I told you all yesterday morning; Rose the Vigil Keeper wanted Martin to rest in peace and solitude. Please go back to your business!"

The crowd though was undeterred. Voices started calling out to Brome and the Redwallers.

"We just want to say thank you."

"I've never seen a warrior before; I want to know is that really Martin?"

"What did you do with that sword of his?"

"Let us pass Brome!"

The voices came thick and fast as the crowd redoubled its efforts to see the fabled Mouse Warrior. From atop the valley rim Martin and Rose watched the scene. "Oh dear, we should go down and help them." Rose had a concerned paw over her mouth.

Martin peered through the trees at the mob. "Oh don't worry about that lot. Gonff and Skip are more than capable of holding them back. That and with your brother screaming at them it should give us enough time to prepare."

Rose was confused. "Prepare for what?"

"Do you think you can sneak down into Noonvale and get my armor and sword? I know it will be hard to smuggle them out and back here."

Rose seemed delighted by the idea. "Oh you're going to walk down there in full armor. That will be the best thing Noonvale has seen in a long time."

"I'm not going to be wearing the armor."

Puzzlement was written in Rose's eyes. "If it's not you, than who is going to wear it?"

Mischief shone in Martin's as he answered. "You"

Rose swatted his arm. "You big Squidjee! You're going to play a trick on them!"

"Nothing so horrible as anything those monsters would come up with I assure you. It'll be fun. Now could you please hurry, the sun will soon be at the right angle."

In a short time Rose had returned to where Martin had hidden himself in the brush. She was bent double carrying the haversacks carrying his armor and had his sword strapped to her side. She dropped the bundles with a crash. "You didn't tell me it was all so heavy. How you marched here wearing all that and then fought in all of it, is beyond me."

"I didn't wear it all the way here from Redwall. And once it's on the weight is evenly carried by my entire body. It's actually quite light and comfortable to wear." Martin began buckling on the plate steel. It soon became apparent that Rose was a touch to small to wear the armor believably.

She clanked around the clearing trying to get a feel for the armor and ended up glaring at Martin. "This is not funny."

The Warrior was biting his paw in an effort to bust out laughing at the comical sight. With great effort he put on a straight face. "You're absolutely right Rose. I apologize; I should have sized up the situation better." At that Martin did lose control and ended up on the ground holding his sides because he was laughing so hard.

Rose stood over him tapping a footpaw impatiently. "Are you quite done?"

Martin stood up, wiped away the tears his bit of merriment had caused, and cleared his throat. "Ahem…ahemm! Yes I think so. Here, hand me those haversacks, we'll use them as padding to keep the breastplate in place." In a short while Rose again tried to walk around the clearing. The extra padding had indeed filled out the armor and she could walk without looking like a young mouse who had tied several iron pots around its body. Martin waited with the helmet as Rose got a feel for the steel. "I'm sorry I laughed at you Rose. But you should have seen the look on your face."

Rose gave a wry smile as she came up next to Martin. "Oh, don't worry about that. I would have laughed at you."

Martin grinned as he gave Rose the helmet. "Glad to hear it. Now here is what we'll do…"

Down in Noonvale the Redwallers and Brome were even more hard pressed to keep the crowd back. Overhead the last clouds had rolled back leaving the sun to shine down its afternoon warmth. A blinding flash to the north caused everybeast to throw their paws to their eyes. Moments later a mouse in bright armor walked out from the dazzling light and down the hillside.

The crowd fell silent at the sight. Behind the assembled creatures Martin had climbed onto the roof of the Refuge. Catching Gonff's eye he motioned that a joke was being planned and to inform the other Redwallers. It wouldn't do to have them ruin the surprise. Gonff nodded and went up and down the line explaining quietly to the otters and Columbine to let the scene play out.

Meanwhile, Rose, in Martin's armor, had reached the crowd. Being an excellent mimic she called out in a passable imitation of Martin's voice from beneath the closed helmet visor. "Noonvale, I am Martin the Warrior."

But before a cheer could be raised a new and thunderous voice was heard from the Refuge. "No! I am Martin the Warrior!"

The mouse atop the structure was whirling something overhead attached to a long rope. Hurling it downwards the keen sword blade buried itself point first into an oak tree near the rear of the crowd. Martin pulled the rope taught and tied it securely to the roof of the Refuge. Fearlessly he slid down the line. He was dressed in a simple brown tunic and carried a domed shield slug across his back. Beneath the shied a black leather and silver scabbard was visible. Landing lightly the mouse pulled his sword free and untied the rope. The crowd parted as the armored mouse faced the challenger.

"What claim do you have on the name of Martin the Warrior?" came the question from under the helmet.

"I need no proof save my sword," was the response. The tunic clad mouse flashed the sword in a circle of silver steel before sheathing it with a quick thrust behind his back.

The two mice faced each other and started circling. Many confused mutterings came from the crowd. The newcomers had never seen Martin before. Even when he fought Rassk they had not seen his face, since the visor of the helmet had been down at the time. Those who had been in Noonvale on Martin's first visit to the glen were just as confused. The mouse who had slid down from the Refuge looked similar to the Warrior they remembered. However, he was older and carried a sword unlike anything they had ever been told about.

"I am the true Martin. I defeated Badrang, saved Noonvale, and then traveled south," claimed the armored mouse.

Martin then stepped forward and raised the helmet visor as he spoke. "No, I am. That is…" but the rest of his words were lost. At the sight of Rose's face under the helmet the crowd had thrown up a great cheer. Lifting Martin onto its shoulders a victory parade set off at once. Gonff was never one to let a parade start without a song. Taking out his flute he played a few merry bars before he started singing.

"Oh, me matey Martin is the finest with a blade.

He saved the slaves, felled the fox, and found his dearest maid.

Oh come all you silly beasts and see,

For Martin has once again set Noonvale free."

Rose stayed where she was, as it was somewhat hard for her to move in all the padding and armor she was wearing. Columbine came up and offered to assist her in removing the armor. "Here let me help you take all that off."

"Oh, thank you so much. I don't care what Martin says, this is not light or easy to wear."

Columbine chuckled at Rose's plight. "Don't worry, this isn't the first time I've helped to take this armor off. Martin hardly ever wears it. When he does I don't think he feels it though."

Rose stood straighter as the heavy steel cuirass was taken off her shoulders. "How could he not? Wearing all that made me feel like a loaf of bread just about to go into the oven."

Columbine's face turned somewhat grave as she answered. "Do you remember how I told you that Martin had fought a wildcat queen who was trying to enslave Mossflower?" Rose nodded. "Well Martin isn't the only warrior we have in Mossflower. While he was recovering from that bout the hares from Salamandastron, all brave and perilous beasts, told us that even they were surprised that a mouse had been able to win against a wildcat in direct paw-to-paw combat. They said that they thought only a warrior like a badger lord could have even stood a chance."

Columbine had finished removing all the steel plates and the two maids were packing it all in the haversacks. Rose was curious as to what Columbine had said. "Then how was he able to win? I know Martin is a warrior of no fear, but if what those hares said was true, how can it be possible?"

"Abbess Germaine was the first true healer to see Martin after the fight. The rest of us had been evacuated to the east. Germaine said that had Martin received just one more wound he would have surely died. She said there was only one thing that both saved him, and gave him the strength to battle in such a way. The Bloodwrath."

Rose turned the strange word over in her mind. "Bloodwrath? What's that?"

By now the two maids had entered Council Lodge and were storing the haversacks in a side room. "Abbess Germaine was never able to fully explain exactly what it is. It's almost a sickness that comes upon great warriors. Pain, injury, common sense even, is thrown out the window. All that matters is the destruction of the enemy. It's a terrible sight to behold so I'm told. After a battle most beasts fall to the ground senseless. No one knows why."

A memory came to Rose. Martin standing hard eyed on a hill near Marshank. His bloodcurdling war cry echoed in her mind. Rose had not seen Martin's duel with Badrang, as she was lying unconscious on the ground at the time. From what others had told her, his behavior at the fort was similar to what Columbine had just described. Leaping off the battlements, able to fight on even when being sorely wounded by his father's own sword, the inexplicable power in his paws as he regained that weapon at last, the fact that he collapsed right after the duel had been decided, all had the hallmarks of the Bloodwrath. Rose couldn't help but feel concerned and a little frightened with this new information. "Has Martin ever been taken, is that the word, by this Bloodwrath since then?"

Relief was in Columbine's eyes as she answered. "Thank the fates no. Since that day he has been the most gentle and caring creature I've ever met. Gonff may have stolen my heart, but Martin will always be a very special friend. I think everyone who has met him feels the same way" A knowing grin spread on Columbine's face as she finished talking.

Rose tuned a pale shade of pink at Columbine's look. "Yes, I think you're right."

"Don't worry about the Bloodwrath Rose. Since that fight with the Tsarmina, we have never been troubled by vermin bands. We've been told that they're all scared of Martin and those of us who pulled down Kotir. Now let's go back to the main room. I think I hear the parade coming this way."

Sure enough the crowd of creatures carrying Martin had made its way to Council Lodge. Columbine ran off to find Gonff who promptly swept her off her feet. Martin was born to the head table. Rose worked her way to where he stood and took his paw. Martin looked down at her joy dancing in his eyes. He was about to say something when Gonff's flute rang out again. The plump Mousethief then launched into a lively song that was a great favorite of the Redwallers.

"Let no foul beast give one command,

I'll say 'O no not me'

My back bends to no tyrant's rule,

Hey, friends this mouse is free.

Free has a sound, it rings around,

A lovely place to be.

So dance and sing do anything,

You're free free free free freeeeee!"

Gonff was called on to sing the song many times over as all the Noonvalers had started dancing to it. Rose had even pulled a reluctant Martin onto the floor and skipped about. Later several barrels of berry juice punch were brought up. The cooks had done their best to have victory feast from the preserved foods they had kept in the Refuge. It was simple affair without the usually culinary delights because of the lingering effects of the drought. But the atmosphere was celebratory and the good creatures would have been content with plain scones and water.

As evening fell Rose wandered out of Council Lodge. Martin had been pulled away so he could receive the thanks of everybeast in the building. She smiled at the Warrior being pulled every which way. Walking across the dell she stopped at the waterfall pool. Rose couldn't keep her mind off the thought of Martin as a bloodthirsty berserking war beast that couldn't control his actions. Had that been how he fought Rassk? Could this Bloodwrath come upon him unexpectedly? How could she tell him her own deep secret? A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Now what's a pretty thing like you doing crying? I would have though you and Martin would have been stuck together like you had run in to a pine tree and gotten covered in the sap"

It was Gonff. Rose wiped away the tear and smiled at the thought of a pine sap covered Martin trying to free her from the sticky mess. "Noonvale needs time to thank Martin. I needed some fresh air," replied the mousemaid.

"And the tear?" Gonff could be quite persistent.

"Columbine told me something very worrying earlier. She said that in the past Martin had been taken by something called Bloodwrath. She said that was how he was able to defeat that wildcat. I know it's how he was able to slay Badrang. I don't know if that's how he was able to defeat Rassk. I'm scared that it will come upon him and he'll do something terrible."

The smile was instantly gone from Gonff's face. "I know how you feel Rose. I was the first one to see Martin after he fought Tsarmina. I thought he was dead. There wasn't a part of him that wasn't cut, bruised, beaten, or battered. We all thought there was no way he could have lived through such injuries. And you're right it was the Bloodwrath that enabled him to slay the cat. I talked to Brome and others who were at Marshank that day. From everything they said it sounds like it was Bloodwrath there too."

Rose was truly crying now. "But after all that time it comes on him again here in Noonvale. Against a vermin crew he had no personal grudge against other than they were threatening this place. I'm scared for him." Rose fell to the ground sobbing.

Gonff kneeled beside her and place a gentle paw on her shoulder. "Hush now missy. I can tell for certain it wasn't Bloodwrath that came upon Martin when he clashed with Rassk."

Rose looked up and him with a tear stained face. "How do you know that?"

Gonff drew a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Rose. "Here dry your tears. Columbine told you of Trubbs and company? The hares who came with us from Salamandastron to Mossflower. Well those hares are some of the finest warriors I've ever seen. We would have brought them here with us, but Martin wanted to leave quick like. Skipper and his otter crew were the only ones available. We didn't have time to seek them out as they have formed a roving patrol around Mossflower. Anyway, the hares brought me to where Martin had fought against Tsarmina.

"Those hares were so well trained in tracking they could tell how a battle had progressed just by the paw prints and other sign around the area. The thing you have to understand about Bloodwrath is that the only thing that matters is the destruction of the enemy. The most skilled warrior would forget the better part of their training and use anything they had. Blade, rock, bush, branch, or paw it wouldn't make a difference. The tracks on the lakeside where we found Martin bore all the hallmarks of such a fight. A skill like that I just had to learn.

"Before the rain came and destroyed the battle site I took a look at where Martin fought Rassk. He wasn't no beserkin' wildbeast that night."

Rose had finished wiping her eyes and offered Gonff the handkerchief back. "Then how was he able to win."

"Keep it," Gonff looked at the dirty cloth Rose was holding, a new smile broke across his face. "As for beating Rassk, do you really think that some hopped up fox could really best Martin? Not only was Martin born with superb natural fighting instincts, but he has trained long and hard to sharpen and hone them. When I looked at the tracks left by Rassk, it was clear that he was not a natural to the sword. Yes, he was very good, but his skill had been learned. The instinctual skill Martin has always had took care of that one no problem."

Rose was almost convinced. She had one more question though. "But he collapsed after the duel. Your wife said that usually happens to a beast with the Bloodwrath."

Gonff laughed again. "He collapsed not from come down from Bloodwrath, but sheer exhaustion. We really trekked hard to get here from Redwall so quickly. That and the last three hours Martin forced the march wearing his full armor. He'd never admit it, but Martin knows that even he can't wear all that and keep up a pace like the one he did forever. He was just too tired to go on."

At last Rose felt better about Martin. She stood up and dusted off her dress. "Yes, I know what you mean. I could hardly wear it just for the little bit I did this afternoon."

Merriment shone in Gonff's eyes. "That was great by the way. How did you ever come up with the idea for all that?"

"I didn't. It was all Martin's idea."

"That it was. You've taught me a thing or two about having fun Gonff." Martin had walked up behind the pair. He was holding a small linen bag. Rose went to his side where Martin put an arm around her waist. Gonff was grinning. "Like I said, tree sap"

Rose blushed but Martin was very confused. "What? Tree sap?"

Rose swatted Gonff's arm. "Nothing, forget about it."

"What were you going to say when you lifted up the visor over Rose's face this afternoon?"

Martin was bewildered at Gonff's question. "Something to the effect of 'No, I am. That is unless Martin is really a maid.' I don't really remember. Why do you ask?"

"Well the only thing we heard was 'No, I am that is.' It sort of sticks to the brain doesn't it?"

Martin rolled the phrase around. "I am that is, sounds nice. Hey, where are you going?"

Gonff turned back to Martin and Rose with a sly grin. "Oh I'm sure you two won't mind me leaving. Besides I promised Columbine another dance."

"She's asleep!" Martin called after the friendly thief.

Gonff's grin grew wider as he plucked the feather from his cap. "Not for long matey."

Martin and Rose laughed at the retreating figure of the Mousethief. The two mice began walking paw in paw around the base of the waterfall pool. Rose led Martin to a small hollow behind the curtain of water. A split in the rocks above let moon and starlight shine on the pair. Rose pointed at the small bag in Martin's paw. "What's that?" She gasped at the object Martin pulled out.


	13. Feathers and Far Off Friends

13.

Feathers and Far Off Friends

She was flying. Her wings were wide and graceful as she soared effortlessly on the thermals. Below, the woods and plains glided silently by her. The air currents took her towards a high mountain chain. Fluffy white clouds obscured the alpine summits as she dove into them. Instantly she was surrounded by the mist. The small droplets started soaking into her plumage. Beneath her, the water vapor tickled her talons. With a few swift beats of her mighty wings she started to soar back up towards the clear blue sky.

The cloud however, started following her. No sooner had she broken through its upper reaches, did it close back over her talons again. The tickling sensation was causing her to fly wildly and she was in danger of falling from the sky. No matter how she twisted and dove the cloud kept with her. In desperation she swiftly rolled completely around in mid-air.

_THWACK!!!_

Columbine's paw connected squarely with the side of Gonff's head. The plump thief dropped the feather he had been using to tickle his wife's footpaw and fell to the floor massaging his head. "Remind me no to go interruptin' your dreamin' again m'dear."

Columbine had come fully awake on accidentally smacking her husband. "Gonff! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! Are you alright?"

"Just fine milady," he replied as he placed the feather back in his cap. "It was the eagle dream again, wasn't it?"

"How did you know that?"

"The way you were holding your paws out to your sides. It looked like you were flying. I must admit, dreamin' of flying like a big fluffy cloud was one of my favorite things to do when I was naught but a lad." He leaned back with a dreamy expression on his face.

Columbine groaned both at her husband and being woken from a nice dream. "You big Dibbun. If I recall it was your play acting on a speeding cloud that got you captured in Kotir once."

Gonff shrugged off the statement. "Tosh, oh she of the errant eagle. I only let them capture me so I could rescue me matey Martin." He had a very pleased grin on his face.

"Errant eagle! I'll show you errant eagle!" Columbine grabbed a spare pillow and threw it at her impudent husband. Unfortunately the pillow caught on the corner of the bedside table. The thin material split its seem covering the room in feathers. The small one-room cottage they had been given to stay in suddenly bore a striking resemblance to a mid-winter blizzard.

Gonff was rolling on the floor laughing. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, you should see your face right now, ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

The pretty mousewife would have glared at her husband, but at that moment a feather floated by her nose. It made her sneeze before she too fell victim to the silliness of the scene. "Achoo! So my face is quite the sight to see is it? Take that!" She had grabbed a handful of feathers out of the air and balled them together. As best she could, she hurled them at Gonff.

He responded in kind at once. The two dissolved into bouts of uncontrollable laughter as they pelted each other with the highly ticklish feathers.

The noise was loud enough to cause Skipper to come running over. Not knowing what was happening inside he threw open the door. "Belay all the noise! What's goin' on in…? OY! Phupht!" Skipper had been treated to a double hit of feather balls. He staggered back outside covered in and spitting out feathers.

"Hurr hurr hurr. You'm 'baint no owly-burd loik miz Emlet zurr. Best you'm keepin' 'ee paws onna ground," chuckled a passing mole.

Far to the south the same moon and stars shone down on a solitary figure peering over Redwall's high battlements. Bella of Brockhall was so lost in thought she didn't hear Abbess Germaine approach her. "Up here again old friend?"

Bella gave a start and turned to the Abbess. The old mouse was long past her prime seasons. The long toils she had faced had weathered and grayed her fur. Her hearing was just starting to go bad and her movements were growing increasingly slower. Still her intellect was a sharp as ever and she ruled over the half-completed Abbey with kindness. "Germaine! What are you doing up here yourself? You should be in bed resting."

"I've been getting plenty of rest as of late Bella, but thank you for your concern. More so than usual to be honest. What with Gonff being gone we can't chase after him for stealing pies from the kitchens."

The old badger nodded to her lifelong friend. "Aye, it's been too quite here without Martin, Gonff, and the others. I can't help but wonder if we did the right thing by just letting them leave like we did. Martin didn't even say where he was going."

"Come with me Bella. There's something I think you should know." Germaine led the way back into the main Abbey building. Entering silently the pair made their way down to the cozy confines of Cavern Hole. A few torches were still sputtering with life. Bella poured two beakers of apple cider that had been left over from dinner. Germaine sat down in a big squashy armchair and pulled a scroll from her wide habit sleeve. "Bella, you know as well as I, that look Martin had in his eye. We both could tell that whatever it was, this quest was, and probably still is very important to him. I knew he was eager to set off at once. I saw no reason to delay him by asking for an explanation.

"Weren't you even curious to know why he only asked for Skipper and his otter crew? Or why he had packed his full suit of armor?" asked the graying badger.

"Of course," was the reply. "But I've never felt the need to intrude unduly on another. I was, and still am confident that if Martin wanted to explain his choice he would have done so."

Bella was still concerned. "How can you say that?"

"Because of this," and Germaine held up the scroll in her paw. "Martin left it by my door just before we saw him at the gatehouse. It carried instruction that it was not to be opened before mid-summers day, should our Warrior not have returned by then."

"Mid-summers day was two day ago. Why didn't you tell me of this sooner?"

Germaine gave a small smirk. "You didn't ask."

Bella wagged a paw at the Abbess. "You've been spending too much time with Foremole and Dinny. Well, what does it say then?"

Germaine unrolled the parchment. "Calm down. It takes the form of a poem.

The code of the warrior to me calls,  
Travel north from these red stone halls.  
Do not worry, oh please don't despair,  
I shall return come autumn fair.

Courage, justice, valor, truth,  
All my hallmarks since my youth.  
Yet, one deep secret I've always kept,  
The reason why my heart has wept.

Of one who gave all she could give,  
To ensure that others would live.  
I the captive she set free,  
Yet her chains still keepeth me.

Now her home in danger lies,  
From evil vermin in cruel disguise.  
Unable to stand against this might,  
They have called to me, a creature of right.

By my sword I will defend,  
Until this evil meets its end,  
And purge the land upon which grows,  
The memory forever, of a faded rose."

Bella sat in silence as the poem ended. She was stunned that stoic Martin could write something so hauntingly beautiful. She looked up at Germaine and was unsurprised to see the old mouse wiping tears from her eyes. "What does it all mean?" asked the badger.

Germaine had recomposed herself. "I have given these words much thought since I first read them. But much still remains a mystery to me. I believe that there is quite a bit more to Martin's past than he has ever told us. I feel that he must have had several adventures before he found his way here to Mossflower."

"After hearing that poem, it would make sense," said Bella. "Do you remember when we first met him in Brockhall? I knew then he came from the tribes of northlands warrior mice. Before I met you, or even Barkstripe for that matter, my travels took me north of Mossflower. I never reached the far northlands, but I did hear tell of them.

"The creatures I spoke to told of a small band of mice that had settled on the western coast. I'm sure that is where Martin originally came from."

The Abbess looked over the scroll again. "If your right, what confuses me is this; talk of Martin in chains, a maid who saved him only to recapture him, the land she came from needing a champion, and this last bit about a faded rose. Everything I've ever read said that the northlands were bleak and barren. Martin even told Gonff the same thing. Roses need good soil and climate to flourish, maybe that's what he meant by a faded rose."

Bella closed her eyes as she walked the dim paths of her memory. "Yes that's true. But the beasts I spoke to in my younger days said that was only the case near the coast. As one went further inland, it was supposed to be quite habitable."

Germaine tucked the scroll back in her habit sleeve. "Surely you don't mean Noonvale?"

Bella's eyes came open. "I do actually. I had only heard rumors of the place during my travels. Apparently it is supposed to be a hidden valley of great beauty and peace. One vole I talked to said that if a creature entered Noonvale they would never want to leave. How do you know of it?"

"Before we left Loamhedge, may the seasons always smile on its memory, our order had compiled one of the greatest libraries ever seen. Noonvale was mentioned several times in those old tomes. But like you said, Noonvale was only heard of by rumor."

The old badger had finished her cider and cleared away the beakers. "You know I think it's entirely possible our Martin may have lost some creature dear to him when he was younger, and I don't mean his mother and father. Martin did tell us that his mother was killed in a searat raid, and he never saw his father return from his voyage to avenge her death."

"Why couldn't it be his parents? They were from the north and Martin clearly told us that is where he went."

Bella shook her head. "It's the line that says something about a secret. We all knew about Martin's parents, it never was a secret. No I think Martin may have met and lost a maiden at one point in his life. She may have even been from Noonvale."

Germaine was somewhat confused. "What makes you think she was from Noonvale?"

"According to the rumors, Noonvale is one of the few places of peace in the northlands. Where else would she be from?" answered the badger.

Germaine had another question. "Then why didn't he stay there? Why did he make his way here to Mossflower?"

"I don't know for certain Germaine, but I just had an idea. You know Martin as well as I. The last thing he would ever do is abandon his friends. But what if he had lost someone like that? You yourself were forced to flee your home once. Why not Martin as well? Could the loss of his love drive him to run away?"

The Abbess shook her head furiously. "No! Our Martin would never do such a thing. Even if his friends fell around him, he would go on to live in honor of them."

Bella wasn't to sure. "_Our_ Martin wouldn't, you're right. But think back to your own days of youth. Did you always make the wise decisions you make now with so many seasons of experience? Would Martin be any different?"

Abbess and Abbey Mother sat in silence thinking about the cryptic message they had been given. Sleep gradually overcame the pair before they could arrive at an answer.

The pale moonlight also shone down on the trees surrounding Noonvale. The soft glow of the silver beams was lost to those hiding amongst the treetops. A black feathered figure hopped next to another and in a whisper said, "Kraaaaa! They are here. Two new Flurem Woo-es he seeks.

The second figure answered also in a whisper. "Krachaaa! Very good! We will watch and wait. Tonight is a good night to claim the Flurem Woo-es."

A/N; _Ha Ha! And now for something completely different! I'll bet you were all expecting another highly romantic Martin and Rose scene. Well I've had several comments that Germaine just let Martin go with no explanation. Others have said they like the way I've been portraying Gonff. That and it was time for a quick break from Martin and Rose. So there you go. I hope it explains a few more things and causes a few laughs all the while adding new questions too. I love being the sneaky what's-going-to-happen-next-writer. (devilish laugh) It took me forever to write that poem too by the way. The last two lines were especially tough. I hope it lives up to the standard Martin explanatory/mystery poetry he is famous for in the books. Of course this time it's not much a mystery to us the reader, but to the characters it probably is. Have fun trying to guess what's coming next. I can tell you this much, it came to me in a stroke of brilliance if I do say so myself. _


	14. The Unthinkable

14.

The Unthinkable

"Martin that is lovely."

The sliver beams of moonlight sparkled off of a golden paw bracelet. It was very slender and while it was one solid piece looked as if it had braided from three separate strands of gold. At the apex of the golden circle a single rose had been engraved into the metal. "Thank you for saying that. This was my mothers."

Rose looked up at Martin. "But Gonff said told me that you don't remember much from your past."

"That's true. There are still many blank portions. But when Emalet found me at Redwall some memories came back to me."

"What came back?"

"Well first was several of the details of our adventures after Marshank."

Rose widened her eyes in mock-surprise. "You mean you forgot about me?"

Martin took her paws in his. "Never. You have always remained locked in my heart. But the words of many of your songs, your kindness toward those horrible Squidjees, almost freezing our paws off while in the sea after the boat sank. Details like that were lost, but they were the first to come back to me." Rose smiled at Martin at that statement. "What also returned," he continued, were a very few memories of my youth on the coast of the Western Sea. After my mother was slain, my father hid this bracelet in our cave. Only he and I knew how to find its hiding place. On the journey here from Redwall I asked Emalet to retrieve it for me."

"Is this the token you were going to leave here in Noonvale?" asked the mousemaid.

"Yes. I planned on leaving it on your grave. But now I can think of a much better use for it."

Rose sensed what he was about to do. Fear gripped her heart. She needed to tell him her other secret. But she didn't know if she had the courage. Before she could find out Martin began speaking again.

"From the moment I met you that night on the shore, through all my wanderings and journeys, battles and quests there has always been one thing that has kept my courage and strength up. Even when I thought I couldn't bear the pain of losing you anymore I never gave up on this." Martin tapped a paw to his heart.

Panic was flooding through Rose as Martin dropped to one knee and held up the bracelet. "I have known the pain of running from my friends once in my life. I know I never want to feel that way again. Now, with you being alive I know our dreams can finally come true. A home, a family, and peace for the rest of our lives. Laterose of Noonvale, I Martin the Warrior have loved you from the moment I saw you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?"

By now Rose was sobbing. Martin's heart was thundering wildly in his chest. He knelt on the hard stone rock floor starting up at Rose. He was anything but prepared for her answer.

"Martin, I can't."

Her words didn't register at first. "What?"

"I can't Martin!" Rose screamed it and turned her back on him sobbing even harder.

The time Martin heard her clearly. He stood up with a dumbfounded look on his face. "But I thought you loved me?"

She turned back to face him tears streaming down her cheeks, but she couldn't meet his eyes. "I do Martin! More than you'll ever know! But I also know the life you would want us to lead. It is something I can't give you."

Martin was now even more confused than ever. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rose tried wiping her eyes, but fresh tears replaced those she wiped away. "Martin I didn't tell you the whole truth of my recovery after the Battle of Marshank. I told you that I only recovered a short time ago. Just about when creatures were first starting to come here because of Rassk.  
"The truth is I fully recovered the use of my legs a long time before that. The reason I didn't try to find you was because I was too ashamed to face you."

Martin stepped closer to Rose and put his paws on her shoulders. "Ashamed of what? In the time I've known you; you have never done anything to be ashamed of. I saw you act kindly to those horrible Squidjees. You acted as my conscience several times when I would have otherwise let my warriors' spirit get away from me. You were at my side with honor and courage at Marshank. How could I ever feel anything but love and pride for you?  
"Now whatever this is that is troubling you, we'll deal with it together. You have helped me in so many ways. Let me help you this time." Martin pulled Rose to him. He could tell his words had had an effect on the maid. She wasn't crying as hard and was holding him as tight as he was her. "But I can't help you if you don't tell what's wrong."

Rose leaned further into his comforting embrace. She fell even more deeply in love with him at that moment. She always knew he was strong enough to deal with any physical troubles that could come up. Now he had just proven he was up to bearing her emotional troubles as well, and would do so willingly. She spoke her next words slowly as her fear melted away.

"It was something my mother found out. She was always more skilled with healing maids than Brome ever has been. She said that the head injury I suffered didn't just affect my ability to run and walk. She said that because of it, I would never be able to bear children."

Martin thought he was prepared for anything, but the news still came as a shock. He hugged Rose tighter. "And you thought I wouldn't want to be with you because of that?" Rose nodded. Martin took a deep breath. "Oh my sweet Rose. It's a shock yes. But there is nothing, _nothing_, in this world that would rob me of wanting to be with you for the rest of my life."

Rose was finally able to meet Martin's eyes. "But what about your Warrior's legacy? Who will wield your sword after you? Your family has always been warriors. Could you leave that behind?"

"Rose for you I would do anything. And as far as a family warrior legacy, well I would rather have a family of just me and you than worry about who next will bear my blade. If I had my way no beast would ever again have to use it in battle. Besides there are always many young ones at Redwall. We'll take care of them together."

"That sounds nice." Rose had finally stopped crying and was just enjoying the feel of Martin's arm around her.

"So does this mean you've changed your mind?" asked Martin as he held up the bracelet. Rose could only smile as she held up her right paw. Martin couldn't help but notice that the starlight reflecting in her gentle hazel eyes looked exactly the same as it had when he had pulled himself out of the escape tunnel. He slid the bracelet over her paw and then leaned down to kiss her.

Gonff and Columbine had wandered to the waterfall pool to wash off the many feathers still stuck in their fur. Columbine was wiping water from her eyes when she saw Martin and Rose emerge from behind the rocks. She called out to them. "Martin! Rose! Over here!"

From her spot at the shore of the pool Columbine saw Rose look up at Martin. After a few whispered words Martin nodded at the maid at his side. A wide smile blossomed on her face and she came running to where Gonff and Columbine stood. She was calling out to them as she ran; behind her Martin was walking normally to join his friends. "Columbine! Gonff! Wonderful news!" Rose skidded to a stop in front of them. "Martin and I are to be wed!"

Columbine squealed with delight and hugged Rose. Gonff gave a laugh and clapped a paw on her shoulder. He then turned to Martin who had arrived. "Getting' hitched matey! Congratulations! But watch out, it won't be long till she's got you sewing skirts rather than swinging swords. Ha ha ha!"

Martin gave his best friend a friendly punch in the arm. "You're just still upset that Columbine had you mend all those sheets you cut up to make a Boar the Fighter costume at the last harvest feast."

"Never upset matey! I was quite happy to provide some useful service to our dear Abbey. Not unlike a certain mouse I know who spent the entire feast at the pond trying to drown the fires of Skippers hotroot soup."

"I was only at the pond because you switched my cider with soup during that sword demonstration you talked me into. Why do you think I've had you in the act ever since?"

Gonff went chasing after Martin. "So that's the reason I've had me paws near chopped off by that oversized pruning knife of yours." Gonff caught up with Martin and the two went rolling around on the ground while their sweethearts dissolved into peals of helpless laughter.

Martin chuckled as he pushed Gonff off of him and latched onto the back of the thief's collar. "Get off me you great grub grabber. Rose I'm sure you can't wait to tell your mother and Brome about us. Why don't you go and tell them while I finish scrubbing this one off."

"Columbine you go with her," said a struggling Gonff. "I wouldn't want you to be witness to the first defeat Martin has ever known when I chuck him in the pool here."

The two mousemaids walked off towards Council Lodge. Behind them Martin and Gonff wrestled furiously trying to throw the other in the water. Without warning black shapes obscured the sky and descended on Rose and Columbine.

"Kreeeehaaaa! Flurem Woo-es! Seize them my brothers. Take them back to where our Master waits." It was at least fifty large black crows and ravens. They grabbed onto Rose and Columbine and started flying off.

"ROSE!!"

"COLUMBINE!!"

Martin and Gonff tried running to save the maidens. Unfortunately both male mice had left their weapons at Council Lodge. The grabbed several large stones and began hurling at the mass of black feathers as they ran. Sadly there were too many blocking the sight of Rose and Columbine. Still the ferocity of Martin and Gonff's attack felled several of the black birds.

The leader of the crow gang told the ones holding Rose and Columbine to fly off. Noticing several of his number had fallen to the stones of the two mice charging towards them he took off and flew low at the rushing pair. His hefty wings knocked both mice flat on their backs. Circling around he landed in front of where Martin and Gonff who were getting to their feet.

Both mice were weaponless as they had lost their pawfuls of rocks in the dark grass. Martin leapt at the crow with a snarl but was again knocked back by a powerful wing blow. The crow spoke to the mice. "Cha chackaa! You will not interfere mouse! The Flurem Woo-es are ours now!"

Martin screamed at the crow. "Scum! Unhand those two right now or I vow I will never rest until you and every single one of you oversized pillows is slain."

The crow only scoffed at Martin's bluster. "You are even now too late mouse, look." The crow pointed a wing to a sight far overhead. Rose and Columbine were being carried away, each held by three crows. Their screams of shock and fear were clearly heard to the two mice on the ground.

Taking the sword belt off from his shoulder Martin hurled it at the crow. The bird didn't see the black leather until it was too late. The supple leather wrapped around the birds' neck before the heavy silver buckle struck it squarely in the eye. The crow fell to the ground senseless.

Martin dropped to his knees as he could only watch as Rose was born over the trees and was lost to sight. Gonff too stared in silence at the patch of sky where his wife was finally obscured by the treetops. Gonff's eyes burned with tears of helplessness. Then the Mousethief heard Martin speak.

"Gonff I need my sword." Martin's words were as hard and fierce as a raging thunderstorm. As Gonff padded silently toward Council Lodge he caught a glimpse of Martin's eyes. The Warrior of Redwall had not taken his eyes off the spot where he had last seen Rose. Gonff wasn't sure, because of the dark night, but he swore he could see a tinge of red in the fierce eye's of the Warrior.

A/N; _I'll bet you never say any of that coming. Just to clarify, the linen bag Martin pulls the bracelet out of is not the linen beaded bag from _Legend of Luke. _As for why I've written what I have I offer this. I started thinking that this would be another AU tales where Martin gets to have his happily ever after. As it has progressed I've started to think of this tale as less as an AU and more of a possible canon correct "missing years" type of tale. Yes, I know a lot of you are thinking it's Redwall canon that Rose is dead and all. But if you use my tale, Rose's death could be explained away. So that's where I'm trying to take this. Hopefully it makes sense._

_So we have come to the end of this story, but not the end of the tale. _A Mask and A Song _is now over but the story will continue under a new title. When I thought us this Rose and Columbine get kidnapped idea I knew I would have to publish it under a new title as it wouldn't fit in the title of this story. As of yet I don't know what the title of the sequel will be, but I will be working on it and it will appear soon. _


End file.
